


Trapdoor

by BigBootBitch



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Death Row, F/F, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Memories, Prison, So much angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2019-10-06 05:57:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 41,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17339837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigBootBitch/pseuds/BigBootBitch
Summary: As Sal waits for his inevitable execution date, he becomes haunted by his past and the dark mysteries of the Town of Nockfell





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!! I really wanted to explore what life in prison was like for Sal since he was in for over three years before his execution. I Already have a few chapters written so I should be updating soon and after that, I'll update every Monday!!  
> Enjoy! -Cork
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING  
> Especially in the later chapters there, will be descriptions of self-harm and suicide. Also implied sexual assault but I will never directly describe it.
> 
> Be safe everyone

_”Come on, Sal it's not a big deal.” Larry tried to convince him holding out a needle and pen. ”No one will even see them.” For some reason, Larry had suddenly gotten the idea to give each other stick and poke tattoos and was not dropping it. Where they'd put them, what they'd get. It had been all he talked about._  
  
 _They were sitting on the dusty floor of the treehouse. It had been mostly neglected from the long winter since neither could stand to be in cold longer than a few minutes. But now that summer was just around the corner they had spent nearly every minute in the small treehouse. ”This just seems like a really good way to get hepatitis to me.”_  
  
 _”I'm not a complete idiot man.” The sunlight was streaming through the window eliminating every little dust particle that'd been inhabiting their sanctuary. ”I got it from Robert, brand new.”_  
  
 _Sally smiled. ”Yeah cause he’s definitely reliable.”_  
  
 _Larry sighed and flopped dramatically on the floor earning a chuckle from his friend. ”Are we doing this or not?”_  
  
 _”Fine but if we die, I’m totally blaming you.”_  
  
 _Almost immediately larry was off the floor and grabbing a small plate he’d brought with him. He broke the pen letting the black ink pool on its surface. ”but then we'd be able to fight the cult from the other side that’d be fucking kick ass.”_  
  
 _”Yeah, I don't think that how it works.”_  
  
 _”You're going first so you don't chicken out on me, ” Larry said glaring at him._  
  
 _Sal gave him the finger, ”Fuck you.” he pulled his shirt off since they both decided they do them on their chest, easier to hide. At least that's what Sal had said to avoid the I don't want tattoos on my scars conversation. Speaking of, he could see Larry give his arms a small look over before smiling shyly. Sal readjusted his prosthetic suddenly self-conscious._  
  
 _”These are gonna be rad, Sally Face.”_  
  
 _”You better not fuck this up, Larry Face.” He teased. Larry quickly drew the all too familiar Sanity’s Fall logo on his chest and eagerly dipped the needle in the ink._  
  
 _”Ready?”_  
  
 _He closed his eyes and took a breath. He was relaxed, well as much as he could be. But most of all he was happy. Like actually happy. For the first time in a long time. Sally was ready to be branded. Ready to share a mark with Larry for the rest of their lives. He breathed out, ”Ready.”_  
  
  
I jolted awake, sitting up right, covered in sweat. For just a moment I couldn’t quite place where I was. That was until the all too familiar shapes seeped from the darkness. The small desk, the bunk over my head, the concrete walls, the small sink/toilet. The locked door.  
  
Fuck.  
  
I laid back down desperately trying to catch my breath. I ended up tearing my mask off, apparently, I’d fallen asleep with it on. My glass eye seemed to burn in the socket as I felt tears start to build in my eyes.  
  
I couldn’t keep doing this. These dreams were completely destroying me. Nightmares I could handle, hell, Id gotten use to them years ago. But these dreams... they haunted me.  
They felt far too real, far too solid. As if somehow I was actually reliving my memories rather then dreaming them.  
  
And seeing Larry, as if it was yesterday was just too much. It was another reminder of my failures. I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save any of them. That creature was right, I’d fail.  
  
With a buzz of electricity, the lights came on.  
  
I had to get these thoughts out of my head. Come on Sal, you can have your mental breakdown later. Now I needed to make sure I got through this day in one piece.  
  
“Hey kid, you alright?” My cellmate was sitting on the edge of his bunk, I could feel his eyes on me as I washed my face. Between the rough towel and the cheap soap, I was lucky I didn’t open any more cuts in the sensitive scar tissue.  That had to have been one of the things I missed the most, skin care.  
  
“Yeah, I’m fine.”  
  
Ron jumped down from the top bunk, “whatever you say, Sal.” honestly I guessed I was lucky with who I got stuck with. Ron had been here for over 20 years serving a life sentence for murder, though I’d never asked him about. It was hard for me to imagine the older man killing anyone, but then again 20 years in prison will definitely change someone. Hell, even just 2 years had drastically changed me.  
  
I quickly finished washing my face and eye and was relieved to have my mask back where it belonged.  
  
Just as I was finishing up I heard footsteps approach the door, “Inmate Fisher, let’s go.”  
  
Great this asshole again. I’d always had problems with this guard, Cruz was his name. It was obvious that he was one of those people who only ever saw us as criminals instead of people. I couldn’t stand him this early, “You know I would respond to just my name.”  
  
I could see Ron shake his head in the corner of my eye. “You trying to be a smart ass inmate?”  
  
“Of course not,” I mumbled as I put my wrist through the slot to be cuffed. As expected, Officer dickwad tightened them until they we pinching the skin underneath. As soon as they were on I was pulled through the door and led down the hall by the arm.  
  
It’s kind of ridiculous how little independence you are allowed here. I make this walk two times a day every day, I have been for almost two years, but still, I must be cuffed and escorted every time. All this hassle just for some fucking pills.  
  
Of course, since I’m not allowed to have the pills in my possession, I have to take them in the infirmary, under strict supervision. And just to be allowed to get the pills I have to attend weekly doctor appointments with the prison psychiatrist.  
  
Finally, we made to the infirmary and I was relieved to see by far the best nurse working today. “Sally! How are you today?”  
  
I couldn’t help but smile at the woman, suddenly I didn’t feel quite so miserable. “I’m okay Della, how are you?”  
  
“Well Jana was in town with the kids this weekend so I’m exhausted.” She said as she carefully put the medication in a small paper cup and handed me a glass of water. “I love them don’t get me wrong but wrangling around a bunch of grandkids doesn’t make for the most relaxing weekend.”  
  
I smiled at her, she had been the closest thing I had to friend here. Unlike most of the staff, Della was always ready to help. It was clear that unlike Officer Cruz, she saw us first as people instead of just criminals. “Sounds like a fun time though.”  
  
“Oh, it was. I have a new picture too,” the older woman reached into her pocket for her flip phone and quickly pulled up a photo of a young girl smiling as she held tightly to a worn teddy bear. Her black hair sticking up at all ends. She looked so happy and so full of life. Almost in the blink of an eye I was no longer seeing the same girl, instead, I was staring at a photo of little Soda. “You okay dear?”  
  
I shook the feeling from my mind, “Yeah just fine.” I responded as I took the pills she offered and swallowed all but one. That one Id hide.  
  
Della checked my mouth but fortunately, I’d gotten better and better at keeping that one pill hidden each day. “You’re all set, Sal. Take care of yourself, you look exhausted.”  
  
“Thanks, Miss Della,” I said as I was once again forcefully pulled into the hall. I rolled my eyes and start walking back to the block ready to get the bitter pill out of it’s hiding spot in my mouth.  
  
Cruz pushed the opposite way, “You’re going to the doc today.”  
  
“What? I usually go on Wednesday.” I was confused, I always had my meeting on Wednesday.  
  
“Well not this week Inmate, let's go.”  
  
Oh shit. This was bad. I know for a fact dr Brown wouldn’t change the schedule, the man simply didn’t care enough to try to see a patient early. Therefore this could only mean one thing, Cruz was gonna kick the shit out me again.  
  
Damn. When would I learn to keep my fucking mouth shut? He was leading me down a hall I hadn’t been to before, but all I could think of was how I was going to get out of this without losing this stupid pill. I needed it, it was part of the plan and every single one was precious.  
  
I hadn’t even noticed when we stopped in front of a door. One that was definitely not Dr. Brown’s. Cruz knocked and used a key to unlock it, I closed my eyes and winced as he pushed me just waiting for the first blow.


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh, hello Mr. Fisher. It’s nice to meet you.” I opened my eyes to see a woman staring at me from behind a desk. I looked around completely confused as to what was happening.

 

“Um, who are you?” I asked heart still pounding against my ribs, bitter pill still hidden in my mouth.

 

She smiled and outstretched a hand to me from behind her well-decorated desk. “Sorry I’m Dr. Alex Ingram, But you can just call me Alex. And what should I call you?”

 

For some reason, I couldn’t quite answer. This woman seemed so out of place here. She was tall, like actually tall not just taller than me, and she had long blonde hair that fell on her shoulder in a braid. She was dressed professionally in a sweater and khaki pants.

 

I thought about what she was asking me. No one had asked me what I wanted to be called since I’d been here, such a simple question and yet I was overwhelmed by the sudden freedom. Something in me wanted to say Sally Face but I know that wasn’t appropriate. She’d just think I was a crazy killer who wished to go by my media name. But fuck if I missed that name. Instead, I answered, “Sal’s fine.” I paused. “I’m sorry I thought I was seeing Dr. Brown?”

 

“Oh, I’m surprised he didn’t tell you. He retired, I’m his replacement.” She motioned to the overly plush chair in front of her desk. “Have a seat and we’ll get started.”

 

I took a seat in the chair hyper-aware of the eyes fixed on me. Fuck, I cursed to myself as I reluctantly swallowed the hidden pill. Another day wasted. She looked back up, “Um thank you, officer. You may go now.”

 

Cruz just stared at her, “Oh I thought you may want me to stay. You know for your safety.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

 

I could see her clench her jaw tight, “I appreciate your concern but in case you didn’t know these meetings are private and privileged. I doubt you stayed during Dr. Brown’s appointment and I would like to be treated the same way.”

 

Cruz’s jaw was gaping and I couldn’t help but watch for his response. “Miss, he murdered over ten people including his own father.”

 

“It’s doctor.”

 

I was hiding a smile, it was hard not to after seeing Cruz so flustered by this woman. “And I am well versed in Mr. Fisher’s case so if you would please leave now.”

 

He huffed, “Fine.” He said as he went for the door.

 

“Oh and you can remove the cuffs too, thank you.” This time even I looked at her as if she was crazy. I know that was not protocol. But nonetheless, Cruz undid my cuffs and went to wait outside the door. “Sorry Sal, so what would you like to talk about today?”

 

I paused. I didn’t want to talk about anything. I just wanted to sit here, so that’s what I did. Instead of answering I just stared at my newly bruised wrists. I knew it was rude and I could feel her eyes on me, I wondered what she thought of me. I went through the usual things people felt when first meeting me, disgust, discomfort, curiosity, fear.

 

That had to be it. Fear. That had been the most common reaction during these past two years. I looked back up at her, she was looking at me still, there wasn’t fear in her eyes there was... patience.

 

My own curiosity finally got to me, “Why did you have him remove my cuffs?”

 

She seemed surprised by the question. “Well, this is your time and I want you to feel comfortable here. Not to mention I could see how tight they were from here.”

 

She wanted me to be comfortable? I hadn’t been comfortable for two years. “But aren’t you afraid?”

 

“Should I be?”

 

I thought about that. “Um no?”

 

“Okay good.”

 

I didn’t say anything else and instead just let the silence wash over me. It was almost comforting.

 

After a few minutes, she spoke again. Asking stupid questions I had no interest in answering. 

 

“How are you feeling today?”  _ Horrible _ , I answered in my own mind.

 

“How are you adjusting to life behind bars?” What a dumb question, no one sane ever adjusts.

 

“Have you had any suicidal thoughts or actions recently.” I rolled my eyes at that.

 

“Next week is the anniversary of your crimes.” Her voice was matter of fact and it made my blood boil. “Anniversaries are always hard.”

 

I clenched my fist. As if I didn’t know already. As if that date wasn’t branded into my brain every second of every day. As if I could forget the day I lost everything.

 

Tears were welling in my eyes, I couldn’t tell if they were from anger or grieve. The two had almost become one in my mind.

 

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Sal. I just want to make sure you’re safe, I know last year you had an attempt and I want to make sure you aren’t in danger.”

 

I took a few deep breaths trying to steady my breathing. In, out. In, out. I looked up to meet her eyes, “I do not have any intentions of hurting myself.”

 

Alex stared back for a moment. “Okay, I trust you. However, I do want to see you for a full session Wednesday but I think we can call it for today.” She hit the buzzer to let Cruz know she was ready. As he cuffed me once again she said, “I really do want to help you sal.”

Before I could respond Cruz was guiding me back to the cell.

 

It was a seemingly quick walk before I was shoved back in the small room and once again uncuffed.

 

“Hey, kid you got another letter from your girl.”

 

I picked up the envelope to see my name in ash’s neat handwriting. “Thanks.”

 

I sat on my bunk with the letter, every time she wrote it made a little anxious not to mention guilty. But it was nice to have some connection to the outside world even if I don’t deserve it. I finally willed myself to open it.

  
  


_ Dear Sal, _

 

_ Hey, I hope you’re doing okay. I’m sorry I didn’t get to visit again, I promise I’m really trying it’s just hard... but I think I’ll be up in the next few weeks so make sure I’m still on your list. _

 

_ You know I went to Wendigo lake this weekend. It reminded me of when we use to sneak up there on weeknights and just smoke cigarettes and gossip. Isn’t it strange how all those things seem so stupid now? The bullies and crushes all just faded to the background. _

 

_ It was beautiful though the lake was foggy as always but the sun was just barely piercing through, it was really hopeful. _

 

_ Neil and I got together for lunch, he was in town on break from med school can you believe that? He’s going to be a doctor soon, it fits him though, he always was looking out for us. _

 

_ I saw Maple too, she’s doing better, she moved back with her parents but she’s started taking classes and really trying again. I’m proud of her. _

 

_ Still no word on Todd though. _

 

_ Sally face I know this time is hard for you so please call me if you need to. I need you safe. _

 

_ Love _

_ Ash _

 

_ Ps enjoy the pictures!! _

  
  


I pulled the pictures from the envelope. One was of Ash on her bike, another was a selfie of her and Neil (I doubt he knew where the picture would end up), then there was a beautiful shot of Wendigo Lake, and lastly was an old Polaroid from high school.

 

At the bottom of the picture in silly front was written: “Senior Prom with the Gang.” They were all there huddled together to fit in the frame. On the left, Maple and Chug we’re close together, a small smile peeking from under her hair, chug of course was still wearing his hat with his dress shirt and pants, tie barely tied. Then there was Todd and Neil to the right, perfectly dressed in complimenting colors complete with boutonnières. Neil was kissing Todd on the cheek as he blushed.

 

And in the middle was Larry, Ash and I. On one side Ashley was leaning into me her fitting purple dress ended just over her ankles to expose her doc martens. Her hair was down as usual. On my other side was Larry, he had one arm around my shoulder and was bent down so our faces were near touching. His long hair was pulled into a messy bun and he wore jeans and button down. The boutonnière I bought him was pinned directly on the thin shirt.

 

And in dead center was me. I just stared at the person for a while. They wore a black dress with an almost full skirt that stopped at the knees exposing ripped red jeans and blue converse. They wore a pretty corsage. Even through the mask, you could see eyes almost closed from laughter.

 

How was that person me?

 

I remember that day so well. It was when Larry and I told our friends we’d been together for like years. The only one that had known was Maple after unfortunately walking in on us a few months earlier.

 

I held back tears as I tried not to think of those days. It was all too painful. However, I slide the picture under the pillow and felt the rest of the old pictures I kept there for especially painful nights. I added it to my stack of sacred memories. My hand grazed the bag of hidden pills.

 

They were what was really important

 

They were my way out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading let me know what you think!!! Chapter 3 will be out on Monday!


	3. Chapter 3

_ “Run, Sally!” Was just barely audible through the pouring rain. _

 

_ “I’m trying,” Sal screamed back unable to hold in his laughter at the utterly ridiculous situation. “My legs are so short.” _

 

_ Larry was nearly at the treehouse with the heavy backpack securely strapped to him. Inside were all the supplies they needed for a proper jam session, cords, picks and most importantly the amp. However, Sally had not bought his guitar case (since he had not been expecting to be running in the rain with it) and unlike the amp, it could not be so easily protected. _

 

_ “Your dad will kill you if you break that guitar.” _

 

_ Sal already knew. The new electric guitar had been his one and only Christmas present and he was certain it was well outside his dad’s usual price range. So instead, the bright red guitar securely wrapped in his jacket. Leaving him only in his light sweater. _

 

_ “And whose genius idea was this?” Sal yelled back with a giggle as Larry escaped safely up the ladder. _

 

_ His long steps seemed far too slow as the rain dampened his hair and dripped down his mask. Usually, he would despise the feeling of cold rain sticking to his scarred face, but not today. Today it made him feel alive. _

 

_ Once under the tree, Larry dramatically pulled the door open and in his best impression, “Give me the lamp!” _

 

_ Sal was caught in another fit of laughter at the reference as he lifted the guitar to him. They both had been too embarrassed to suggest the kids' movie one weekend until finally Sally admitted to wanted to see it. Both boys may be a little too old for the intended audience loved it. The VHS now sat on Sal’s TV protected by the crinkly plastic case all Disney movies seemed to come in. _

 

_ Larry watched with a dopey smile as his friend pulled himself into the small room and collapsed on the floor. He ringed the water out of his soaked hair as Sal unwrapped his guitar and searched for any water damage. _

 

_ “All clear here.” He said as he pulled his own wet hair out of the messy pigtails. The blue seemed to frame him just perfectly as if his artificial face was set in an ocean of beautiful hair. Larry always loved when he had his hair down. _

 

_ Larry couldn’t help but think of how amazing he looked. _

 

_ He wasn’t dumb, he knew his feelings were no longer strictly platonic. He knew he shouldn’t enjoy the way he laughed so much or how he cherished every moment with him. More recently, Larry could barely sleep without him. The nights Sally face didn’t call his walkie Larry was struck with intense insomnia. He knew those feelings were not normal for best friends. _

 

_ Sal was shivering through the knit sweater, the rain seems to just sit on the thread as he sat back on the bean bag that was always left up there. The rain seemed to wash down the windows as if they were under a waterfall. _

 

_ Larry had taken to packing a bowl as Sal eagerly waited. His hair was cascading over his shoulders, slightly covering his face. They each took a few slow hits enjoying the familiar smoke. Finally, Sal spoke, “So let me hear this song I need to learn.” _

 

_ “Oh hell yeah.” Larry set what he called his ‘kit’ to the side. Really it was just a beat up cigar box with some weed, the bowl and a shitty gas station lighter. “Okay it’s their new song and it’s fucking killer.” He moved to the small CD player in the corner. “Um you’re gonna wanna stand up. You know to headbang.” _

 

_ Sal laughed as he got to his feet. Making sure to dramatically stand with his feet shoulder length apart, knees bent and hands out to the side. “Okay. I’m ready.” _

 

_ It earned him a chuckle and another goofy smile from Larry as he hit the play button. Immediately a distorted electric guitar rang through the speakers. The singer screamed out the dark lyrics as Sal inevitably started banging his head to the beat. The small speakers rang from overuse but neither boy could care as drops of water flew from their wet hair.  _

 

_ Sal had to admit, he was feeling it. The lyrics were maybe a bit too dark and he loved that. And the beat was heavy and easy to follow. Sal just whipped his head back and forth as hard as he could. The growing pain in his head was a good distraction from everything in his life. In their treehouse, Sal could forget the horrors in his past, his dad’s decline into alcoholism, the ghosts, the cults.  _

 

_ No, all that existed here was the music and his best friend in the world. _

 

_ “Hell yeah, Sally! Rock it!!” Larry cheered him on. Sal was a mess of blue and black, he was going harder than Larry had ever seen him. Drips of cold rain flew off his cobalt hair, Larry was transfixed, all he could do was stare. _

 

_ The next thing he knew there was a sharp pain in his nose, “Fuck!! Ow!” _

 

_ Sal looked up to see Larry clenching his nose, blood running down his hands. What had happened? “Holy Fuck Larry.” He quickly grabbed his wet jacket and used it to try and stop the bleeding. _

 

_ Larry looked up, nose still throbbing with pain, and was suddenly frozen. There dabbing the blood from his face was Sal, without his mask. He didn’t know what he had been expecting but this wasn’t it. It wasn’t bloody and horrifying, instead, it was a cladiscope of pinks and reds and harsh whites running down his face. His nose was nearly gone and the right side of his upper lip didn’t quite meet the bottom exposing just a flash of white teeth. And on his left side in a patch of nearly undamaged skin, just a tiny bit of blue stubble was surfacing. _

 

_ “Larry? Are you okay?” Sally asked alarmed. _

 

_ Larry just stared back at him. “Yeah, yeah… are you?” _

 

_ “What are you talking about, of course-” Suddenly he realized what happened as the cold black eyes of his artificial face stared back at him from the floor.  _

 

_ “Sal?” _

 

_ He looked back to Larry.  _ He’s looking at me. No one looks at me _. It wasn’t a look of pity or fear or disgust, instead, it was concerned and kind. Before he could stop it he broke into sobs, tears falling freely and body shaking. _

 

_ Larry immediately grabbed the smaller boy, “Hey, hey I’m fine, just a little nose bleed. It barely even hurts.” He was panicking, he was never good when people cried in front of him he just wanted Sally to be okay.  _

 

_ “I’m- I’m so- sorry,” He choked out between sobs. _

 

_ He had no idea what to do so Sal just grabbed onto the back of Larry’s shirt as the sobs wracked his body. He could hear Larry’s comforting words but was far too overwhelmed to do anything. Finally, with Larry slowly rubbing his back the tears ran dry.  _

 

_ The taller boy looked down at the beautiful mess of a person that somehow ended up in his lap. He was pure chaos, pure nature. A testament to the power of survival. “Do… do you want it back?” He asked timidly. _

 

_ Shyly he looked up at him, “Do you want me to put it back on?” _

 

_ “No.” Sally retreated back into where his head was previously rested on his chest. “Um… can I touch it?” _

 

_ At that Sal sat back to get a full look at Larry’s face. He was clearly embarrassed, hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously. But he looked genuine and before he could think of it he uttered out, “Okay.” _

 

_ Larry was tentative but reached out his hand. The skin was soft, yet it seemed fragile as if it may tear under his touch, “Does it hurt?” _

 

_ “No. Not anymore.” _

 

_ “Its…” _

 

_ “Its bad I know,” Sal interrupted. _

 

_ “No. No, I was going to say beautiful actually.” Larry quickly corrected. Suddenly hyper-aware of how close Sal was to him. He was practically in Larry’s lap and his face was only a few inches from his. How’d they get here? _

 

_ “Serious?” _

 

_ “Of course I am,” Larry said as he finally got the courage to close the gap, pressing his chapped lips against scarred ones. Totally unaware of what they’d set in motion. _

  
  


My eyes shot open. Two years. Two FUCKING years. I hated it but I was still angry, how dare you, Larry? How could you leave me? You were my everything, but you left me alone. I wished I could tell him even though I’m angry, I’ve forgiven him a long time ago. It makes me sick thinking his spirit is rotting away in that tree house now.

 

What was once their sanctuary was now his hell.

 

I couldn’t help but grab one of the old polaroids Ash sent me. This one was an image of Larry, cigarette hanging from his mouth framing him in smoke. They had “borrowed” Ash’s camera and spent all day taking goofy photos. Of course Sal had paid for new film knowing it wasn’t cheap but once Larry got the idea in his head he just couldn’t tell him no. 

 

It was still dark, probably very early in the morning but I was too afraid of tbittersweeteet dreams to fall back asleep.

 

It was two years to the day.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sheesh! This was a hard one for me I keep writing and rewriting because I couldn't get it just right. I'm still not completely happy with how it ended up but I wanted to stay close to schedule. Again Sorry it's late. Please let me know what you thought of it.  
> Cork


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for Self-harm, suicide and implied sexual assault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone, I've been incredibly motivated so I'm posting an extra chapter this week. So there will be another one on Monday. I got really dark in this chapter so let me know what you think.   
> Cork

Since waking this morning I had been consumed with the horrible memories this day always brought with it. Every time I closed my eyes I could see it all before me again. The rain, the blood, the… bodies. I wish none of this happened, why couldn’t I just go back? I’m sure if I could redo it I could stop everything from going so wrong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It’s all still mixed up in my head. Was anything as I thought it was? 

 

God, why did these thoughts keep coming into my head? I needed to distract myself. no, that’s so selfish. I deserve this, all my life has brought is pain. I should  _ have _ to feel this horrible after what I did. 

 

I’m spiraling again. I’m not going to be able to keep myself safe if I keep getting stuck in my own head. It not even 9 am and I already feel that scratch under my skin. It's clawing at me. I’m craving the feeling of releasing it, of a cold blade to warm skin. I feel my throat closing in on itself, my chest feels heavy.

 

I look around the small eating area, noticing no one paying me any attention and I pull at the end of hair looking for any pain to calm me down. I can’t have an attack here in the middle of the block. The familiar pressure on my scalp reminds me of being a child tugging desperately at my pigtails to ground myself. It works for the moment.

 

Distractions. I need distractions.

 

I scrap the horrible mess of ‘food’ around the tray watching it move together with no desire to actually eat it. I look up watching the movement of the block from my empty table. It's full of men in groups talking, avoiding eye contact, yelling, quietly eating. Just living. How did they do it?

 

For a second I glance at the table I’ve come to call the retirement home, where all the older inmates sat. Long ago they all just flocked together. My eyes meet Ron’s for just a moment as he gives me a sad smile.

 

Of course, he knows what today is. After the attempt last year he was the one that found me, barely conscious trying to hang myself off the top bunk with a ripped tee shirt. At first, I was pissed I failed at that too. I had yelled at him the best I could through my bruised vocal cords, cursing and sobbing. Begging not to help me. To just let me-

 

Stop Sal, that’s the opposite of distractions.

 

I look up at the clock. 8:37. Good. Work assignment starts in only fifty minutes. That’s a good distraction. Working in the small basement Library would help. Yeah. And then this afternoon was a meeting with Alex. That’s about as little sitting with my thoughts as possible for a day in prison. 

 

I take a deep breath and walk to empty my still full tray in the trash. My eyes catch on a man I haven’t seen before, he’s young, maybe my age, maybe even younger. Nothing about him says he’d belong in prison. He’s clean and fit, looks more like he belongs at a frat party. His face doesn’t match his body either, it's still just slightly boyish, a firm jaw is just peeking under the skin of his face. A small amount of acne litters his tan skin. But his body is the opposite. Tall and strong and for some reason a little terrifying.

 

I try not to listen as he brags about his crimes to a group of younger men at the table with him. I feel vomit building as he talks about what he did to a woman once. How can someone be so… so unfeeling. So wrong.

 

“You’re not going to believe this, then that bitch-” He stops mid-sentence as he meets eyes with me still staring at him in shock. What a dick. “Oh my god! It's the Sally Face Killer!! Sal Fisher! I’m a huge fan!”

 

The word bounces off my skull. Fan. The bile burns in the back of my throat. I want to scream that even after hearing only part of his conversation and I already know he’s a disgusting monster and I never want to hear my name leave his lips again! But I know how that ends, with a fight and a trip to the hole. I’m aware of my nails digging into my palms.

 

Instead, I just walk away, shaking with anger. “Haha, I can’t believe how small he is.” I try not to run as I make my escape to my cell. I pull my face off and fling it in my bunk, the sobs already starting. I try to muffle the pathetic noises that bounce off the concrete walls. 

 

I can’t do this.

 

Not today.

 

This is such a mess. First that horrible dream, now this, I swear the universe is trying to kill me. I shouldn't be letting this get to me, the young guys always recognize me. They watched my trial unfold on TV, heard me speak of cults and demons and magical fucking guitars. They always stare, but most keep their distance afraid I’ll snap and kill them too. Or at least until they realize I’m actually a barely functioning child. 

 

But no one’s ever used that word.

 

A  _ fan.  _ How dare he? How can you admire someone who has caused so much pain? How fucked up is he? I didn’t do this on purpose, I’d never had hurt anyone if I’d thought there was another choice.

 

I had no choice.

 

I wipe my tears pooling in the remains of my face but when I look at my hands they aren't wet with tears. Instead they liquid is viscous, gore coats my hands. The metallic smell suffocates me. 

 

Blood?

 

My hands are covered in it. No. More like my arms. I’m up to my elbows in the impure secretion.

 

This isn’t real Sal. You’re hallucinating. I try to convince myself.

 

For a second I swear I feel the weight of a large knife in my hands.

 

_ I proud of the man you’re becoming. _

 

It isn’t real.

 

_ Can I ride on your shoulders now, Uncle Sawwy? _

 

No. No. No!

 

_ I’m not strong like you. _

 

Stop!

 

_ See you on the other side. _

 

Not real. Not real. Not real. I’m not sure if I’m speaking out loud or not. The unconvincing words echo in my head.

 

The sticky fluid is covering my face as I hide in my contaminated hands desperate for any escape.

 

I can’t breathe. I’m drowning in the crimson. Gassed by the putrid rust of the blood.

 

I try to exhale. Instead I retch.

 

The cold metal of the toilet slowly bringing me back from the visions. The voices. I’m shaking and dry heaving, straining for every breathe I force from my weak lungs. I have no idea how long I sit there, it feels as if time doesn’t truly exist for me. I float in a lake of memories and more blood.

 

“Jesus, fuck kid. What happened?” It was Ron.

 

I didn’t want to respond. Can’t I ever have some fucking privacy? “I got sick.”

 

“Yeah I can see,” he sat on my bunk and handed the mask back to me. Ron was more than use to my face now but that hasn't always been the case. In the beginning, he’d avert his eyes or scrunch up his face unconsciously. He was never purposefully rude through so… “Are you hurt?”

 

“I said I’m fine,” I snapped back knowing the double meaning in his question. 

 

“I’ve been there. I know you keep to yourself but damn kid you need to be careful.” He placed a hand on my back. I assume the gesture was meant to be soothing. It wasn’t. “Work Assignments start in ten minutes, I know you don’t want to miss it.”

 

Finally, I stood, my legs threatened to fall out from under me as I strapped on my face. “Hey, sorry. Um… thanks for checking on me.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” We were both uncomfortable with what was by far our most affectionate exchange. Except for last year of course. “Just you know… make it through the day, Sal.”

 

I nodded leaving to meet the guard that lead us to our work locations.

 

Finally, distractions. 

 

***

 

The sight of old books was a huge relieve. Between the nearly ancient basement and abused pages I almost feel... calm as the musty perfume filled my nose. I quickly get to work as my torn white shoes slap over the laid brick floor I can’t help but compare this room to a dungeon. I mean it was fitting. Since it was part of the original building the walls were extremely old and constructed of irregular stones, the floors brick, windows barred. 

 

Sometimes when I’m here I would think back to those old sessions of Dungeons and Dragons we use to play. How if this was a location of my own imagination, Ash would try to seduce a guard giggling when her charisma roll made her fail horribly. Todd would try to actually play along and find the secret loose stone I had made to facilitate their escape. 

 

Larry would just do something really stupid like squeezing through the bars or trying to kill off every guard. He used to infuriate me when we played always finding some ridiculous way to pull my meticulously planned campaign off the tracks.

 

_ “Uh, can’t you just play along, Lar.”  _ I’d beg.

 

With a huge smirk, he’d say _ , “Um I’m simply role-playing, I will not follow your laws even if you are the merciless god of this land!” _

 

_ “Viva la Resistance!”  _ Ash would scream further derailing the game as Todd rolled his eyes.

 

The lump was building in my throat again. I bit my scarred lip to hold back tears as I organize shelves and returned books to their rightful places.I try to keep myself busy with the books from the cheap wood shelves that harshly contrasted the antique structure of the room. 

 

I say the titles I see in my head.  _ Diary of a Young Girl. The Bell Jar. Things Fall Apart. To Kill a Mockingbird. 1984. The Great Gatsby. _

 

Anything to keep the memories out. I remain tense, feeling like I could be possessed by them at any moment. This was helping though. Maybe I could make it through this day.

 

I breathe. Distractions, that’s all you need Sal. 

 

I’ll survive this.

 

I have no other choice.


	5. Chapter 5

After over two hours, it was finally time for my meeting with Alex. I had spent the entire afternoon being searched and counted. Nothing was ever more exhausting or humiliating as being strip searched and reporting for count. Standing completely naked in front of someone obviously desensitized by the whole process as they look for weapons or contraband is always unsettling. Then to head by to your bunk for count really drilled home the whole ‘you’re not a person’ feeling of being in prison. 

 

I swear today had been one of the longest days of my life. I just wanted this painful date to be over. It felt as if a whole week had passed in the span of a morning. 

 

It was okay though, it’d be over soon. 

 

Now I just had to focus on getting through this appointment. Recently Alex had continued asking me pointless questions as I either blatantly ignored her or gave the vaguest of answers. I’d look around the still mostly empty office and let my mind wander. That probably wouldn’t be the best idea today considering where my thoughts were.

 

“Hello, Sal.” Alex greeted cheerfully as she always did, “How are you?”

 

I simply shrugged in response as the guard uncuffed me and I sat back in my usual chair. As I looked around I realized she had finally finished setting up her office. What was once an empty cheap bookcase was now filled with various textbooks and pictures. Her diplomas, which had earlier been leaning haphazardly against the wall were now proudly displayed behind her desk. Overall it was a much more soothing atmosphere, “The office looks really nice.”

 

“Oh, yeah. I kept meaning to get to it but I’ve been so busy since I started working here I hadn’t gotten a chance to get properly settled in.” I nodded. “So how have you be feeling?”

 

“Fine,” I was quick to dismiss. “Um, can I look at your books?” I asked pointing to the shelves, anything for a distraction.

 

“Of course.” I had waited until she answered before standing and walking to the large bookshelf. I didn’t want to just get up in fear she would think I was trying to attack or something, not that I think she would but I’ve been beaten with a baton enough times to know its a possibility I wish to avoid. “Are you a big reader?”

 

“Not before I came here. But a lot of my friends were when we were younger, I was always more into comics,” I answered as I looked through the textbooks, most were on psychology but a lot were also on the criminal system. Those were the ones that looked most worn out. Scanning one shelf, my eyes landed on a small picture frame. It was of Alex in a cap and gown, she was holding a diploma and grinning ear to ear. Next to her was a woman with short black hair and beautiful dark skin. The woman looked like she had been taken off guard and the photo was taken mid-laugh. “Whose this?”

 

“Oh, that’s my gir-” she cleared her throat. “Good friend. She’s my good friend.”

 

“Ah,” I responded seeing her face turn red at the sloppy mistake.  I knew what she was going to say and the reason for her reaction. I can only imagine how hard that must be in a field like criminal justice. Surrounded by not only criminals but also guards wishing to prove their masculinity. Not that it was really accepted in any field. Or anywhere, the memories of bullies in high school felt fresh in my mind. I could feel her eyes on me as she silently begged me not to tell anyone. “I had a ‘good friend’.”

 

The statement immediately shocked me as I said it. To be honest it was dangerous for anyone to know about my sexual orientation here. Plus, I had promised myself not to tell anyone of my personal life after Dr. Enon, but I guess I’m just pretty fucking weak today.

 

Alex still looked a little shocked by the exchange, it was a harsh contrast to her normal confident demeanor. “Oh,” was all she managed.

 

I wasn’t sure why but I felt the need to comfort her somehow and after two years of being silent, I stupidly decided to keep talking. “I met him when I was only 15, isn’t that crazy? And he never once treated me badly or judged me. Even when I first met him he just accepted my prosthetic saying it looked cool, I never felt different when I was with him.” I swallowed hard, not wanting to shed any more tears today. Surely there couldn’t be any left. It seemed a dam broke in me as the words kept flooding out. “We’d spend every minute together, any chance we got. I’d wait until my dad passed out and I’d sneak to the basement to crawl in his bed. And once we got suspended after a bully called us fags, and he said ‘hell yeah’ and made out with me in front of the whole school. And he’d call me baby blue. And I’d play my guitar for him as he painted. And for my seventeenth birthday, he made me these crazy masks that he hand painted. He was so beautiful and kind and real. Like a truly real person.” I paused. “He was my whole life… but now he’s gone.”

 

She cleared her throat again, finally regaining her composure, “You’re speaking of Larry Johnson?”

 

I froze gripping the bookshelf for support. I couldn’t tell if it was a statement or question. When was the last time I heard his name spoken? The trail? I somehow felt something even further in me break. How could just a name still break me? How could a name not be spoken for years? How could someone so quickly be forgotten? How long did two years feel trapped in a treehouse?

 

How could you leave me?

 

I was only aware of my tears when Alex was reaching to me with a tissue. My legs were rubber and I was choking on my own Adam's apple. I collapsed back in the chair. It was soft synthetic leather and the cool fabric was calming under my sweaty palms. Suddenly I was all too aware of how tired I was. “So, Sal, how have you really been feeling?”

 

I hesitated still too afraid to speak freely, but the words were leaping on my tongue just waiting to be spoken. The pain almost breaching the surface.

 

Alex’s eyes stared at me, a terrifying mix of sincerity and disbelieve in whatever lie i was constructing in my mind.

 

I sighed. “I’m...doing really bad.” I finally said, only then admitting it to myself.

 

“Okay, well this is a very stressful and upsetting time for you. What is one thing that has been upsetting you?” She asked a new spark in her eye.

 

_ Everything, _ I wanted to say. But I knew that wasn’t the answer. One thing. Just one specific thing. “Well, I’ve been having these weird dreams.”

 

A pen clicked as she crossed her legs, “Are you getting nightmares again? It says here you have a history of them.”

 

“Not exactly.” My chest felt heavy with each breath. “I usually have nightmares and I know how to deal with those but… these are almost like good dreams.” I tried to explain.

 

“And why is that upsetting you?”

 

“Because I don’t get it. Every night I’m relieving some of my fondest memories full of people I hurt. Why should I get to benefit when all they got was suffering?”

 

Alex paused a moment to think about what I had said. “So you don’t think you deserve to experience those memories anymore.”

 

“They’re dead because of me.” 

 

“Huh.” I had my head down staring into my hands hoping to just escape my body. I was terrified, I told myself not to do this. Not to be vulnerable and especially not to put anyone else in danger. “Sal, that may be true but you need to come to terms with your life now. Clearly, you are remorseful, you can’t continue to punish yourself for things you can’t control, like your dreams.”

 

How could she say that? I need to suffer the way they have, plus it's not like I have anything to live for. “I don’t see why that matters when I’m just waiting to die.”

 

“Yes, you are on death row, but there’s usually ten or more years of that waiting. Do you believe you can live like this for another eight years?”

 

I thought about that. Eight years. Eight more anniversaries. Eight more wasted revolutions around the sun. I thought about my episode earlier, the voices and hallucinations, the vomiting and crying. How many more times would I breakdown in eight years? 

 

“No,” I responded honestly.

 

She smiled at me kindly, “Well then, I guess we’ll have to do something to change that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Lovelies!  
> Sorry this took so long, I'm getting married in October and I've been hella busy with wedding planning. But I've already started on Chapter 6 so I may have a mid week chapter this week!!! As always thanks for reading and please let me know what you think, your comments and kudos fuel me!!!  
> -Cork


	6. Chapter 6

“Sally! How are you?” Della greeting me as I entered the small infirmary for my morning pills. As always her hair was pulled in a loose ponytail with a dark scrunchy, gray roots fading into artificial black. 

 

“I’m okay, Dell,” I answered. And honestly, it wasn’t a complete lie. I was actually taking my antipsychotics instead of stashing them and as much as I hated to admit it they were actually helping. I hadn’t had another episode since the anniversary almost a month ago now, even the dreams had been easier. I was still having them but Alex had instructed me to write down how I felt as soon as I woke. First I’d write how it made me feel now and then I’d write how I had felt at the time of the memory. It wasn’t perfect but it made it manageable I guess.

 

She smiled and lightly grabbed my hand. “I’m glad, Sal.” She gave me the pills and I took them dutifully, I still wasn’t sure if that was a strength or a weakness. “Now we just need to get you to a healthy weight.”

 

She wasn’t wrong. Over the past year, I’d lost so much weight I could practically always see my ribs. I mean I’d always been scrawny but this was extreme.  It was weird since at the time of my trail I weighed more than I ever had. Now just two years later I weighed less than when I first arrived in Nockfell. “I’ll make sure to eat today.” I hoped that wasn’t a lie.

 

“That’s my boy, you know I worry.” It was such a motherly thing to say, I couldn’t help but think of Mom and Lisa. I wondered what they’d think of the person I am, of what I’ve done. Lisa had never even known about Larry before… 

 

I shook the thought from my mind. “Thanks, Della. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

She waved as I was escorted back to my cell. My days had seemed to morph into one big day of counts and hallways and appointments. I still couldn’t believe a month had passed since those hallucinations. They still felt so fresh.

 

As I entered the cell, I saw Ron lounged on his bunk sketching in an old notebook as he always did during count. I waved as I grabbed the book I’d been reading to distract myself. The Iliad. It had been Larry’s favorite. I was surprised I was even allowed to have it here, I guess they made an exception for a classic.

 

I had been reading novel after novel in the past few weeks. It was a change from the nonfiction almost textbooks I was reading for the past few years. Again another suggestion from Alex. It was part of the continued effort to make me more comfortable with my emotions. 

 

I still thought it was bullshit, but hey I guess it was a good time passer. 

 

After a few excruciating hours, count was finally over. Not that it really bothered me since I also preferred to stay in my cell, but the closed door always raised my anxiety. Closed doors always meant bad things.

I sat that way for a while, tripping over the poetic language of the old epic in my head. Half the passages I had to read twice just to understand them. I was never wonderful at reading, I had always enjoyed science and history more in school. I remember when I found out Larry read the way he did. 

 

I had actually found a copy of the Iliad in his room, pages bent and highlighted an old joint laid half smoked next to it. We were only sixteen and the last thing I could imagine Larry doing was sitting down in one of his old bean bags with such a complicated read. 

 

He used to try to get me to read it out loud to him. I always refused until he begged and begged all day and I finally caved. It was horrible, I was stuttering and my voice was muffled from my mask but I was far too embarrassed to remove it. I had been pissed he made me but he told me it was beautiful. I never did it again, but he’d always say that was one of his favorite memories of me.

 

“Hey, Fisher?” I marked the page as I saw Officer Helmes in the door. I had known him since high school, Henry was his name, Henry Helmes. He was a year older than I was but he had always been nice to me. We had shared a class or two, he’d always ask to be my partner knowing if he didn’t no one would ask me.

 

It had been quite a shock when I ran into him here. Even here he never treated me badly. “Hey Henry, what do you need?”

 

He leaned against the door, “You have a visitor.”

 

“What?” No one ever visits me, I didn’t think Ash would ever get up the nerve to come. I guess she finally did. “Ashley Campbell?”

 

He chuckled, “Nah, Travis Phelps.”

 

I was stunned silent. Travis? Why would he visit me? He never truly stopped bullying me, it had slowed down for a while until Larry and I had came out as together then it became much worse.

 

“Sal, do you want to see him?” He asked.

 

“Uh. Yeah...yeah, I guess so.”

 

“Alright then, Sal, let’s go.”

 

As I was escorted down the corridors all I could think about was why the hell Travis would come here to see me? We hadn’t talked since we graduated, I saw he had been at my trial but that had been all the interaction between us.

 

“Here you are, Sal,” Helmes said as he led me to a table with a man sitting there, head in his hands, dark fingers gripping blonde hair. 

 

“Thanks.” At that moment, the man looked up at me from his seat and suddenly he was no longer a stranger. He looked almost exactly the same, the only difference was he taller and stronger. But his face was just as weak, just as scared as he always was. His lip was busted and there were bruises on his wrist. I guess not too much had changed for him.

 

He was tapping his finger wildly on the table, he looked like he was about to snap from the tension.

 

I didn’t say anything. I was a little too shocked.

 

All around us were conversations, people desperate to fill every second they could with the missing lives of their loved ones. 

 

But not us.

 

We were two basic strangers, unsure how to start a conversation. I opened my mouth to start but he beat me to it.

 

“I… I know this is weird.” His voice was shaky, he looked panicked. “But… I had to come here. I had to talk to you.”

 

“Are you okay, Travis?” I’d seen him in tears before and I knew his family life was hell but I’d never seen him this upset. 

 

“I’m fine. I’m not a convicted murderer on death row so?” He was staring daggers at me. Angry as always. Voice raised.

 

I considered leaving. But I couldn’t. “I assumed you didn’t just come here to insult me.”

 

“No, sorry.” He looked around the room nervously. “This is really important, but…”

 

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about?” To me, he looked high, shaking and paranoid. “I don’t understand why you came here?”

 

“I came to warn you. I had to warn you.”

 

Everything in the room seemed to fade out. All that existed was us. “Warn me of what, Travis?”

 

He leaned in, I could see healing yellowish bruises in his left eye. Fuck I should have tried more to help back then. He whispered, “You’re not safe, this isn’t over yet.”

 

I swallowed. Is he… is he admitting all this? “What isn’t?” My voice came out as a harsh exhale more than a sentence. 

 

Travis scratched the back of his neck, “Don’t be stupid, they won’t stop until you’re dead and you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

 

My chest was heavy. I thought this was over. How could they still be after me? I’m already in prison for fuck’s sake. What else could I possibly do to them?

 

“There’s info here you need to find it, get it out safely.” He said answering my unspoken question.

 

No. I can’t, I just made everything worse every time I tried. “How... How do you know all this?”

 

“It doesn’t matter. It’s the truth, I’m leaving Nockfell. Today. And I’m never coming back.” 

 

I was silent. I had nothing to say. I had no clue what was real and what wasn’t. And most of all I couldn’t tell if I should trust him. “How can I believe you?”

 

He looked annoyed by the question as if I should just take him at face value. “My family’s been a part of this since the beginning. I’ve known for a while now.”

 

I was quiet.

 

Awhile now.

 

“The… the trial?” I asked.

 

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t testify, even leaving now I’m risking my life.” I could see tears building in his eyes. He knew. He knew I was telling the truth. Travis could have shown them I wasn’t crazy. All of this could have been avoided.

 

I squeezed my fists shut. I had the sudden urge to punch him. To yell that he was coward, but I held my tongue.

 

He met my eyes. “I’m really sorry, Sal. It was a bad idea to come here, but I had to tell you, I had to warn you that they’ll do anything to destroy you.” Travis paused. The anger melted away, he wasn't the enemy. “And… and I had to apologize, not just for the trial but for everything.”

 

I took a breath. “Thanks, Travis, it means a lot.” I took a second to look at him, dark skin, sunken eyes, straight blonde hair. Split lip and bruised wrists. He had tormented me for years but I had always hoped he’d be safe. I saw the new injuries he came to school with, everyone did, but no one ever did anything. Now Travis was finally doing something. “Just get somewhere safe. Somewhere far from here and never think of Nockfell again.”

 

A sad smile corrupted his harsh features and he stood from the table he looked down at me, “I’m...I’m really sorry about Larry.”

 

My neck jerked up to meet his eyes, trying to plead with him, “It was them wasn’t it?”

 

“Yes, it had to be him.”

 

And just like that, he was gone and I sat at an empty table in a crowd of frantic people holding on for just a few more moments.

 

I wished I had just a few more moments.


	7. Chapter 7

Travis’ words still rang in my eyes.

 

_ It had to be him. _

 

What did that mean? And why did he even bring up Larry in the first place? He said it was they who did this, but how? I mean I always assumed they had something to do with it. Larry had been going through a small depression after I left. His mom had already moved up with my dad and he didn’t yet have enough money to move in with us so he felt quite alone. 

 

But he was in no way suicidal to me. In fact, he was looking forward to moving into the house.

 

Fuck, Larry, this is all my fault. If it wasn’t for me we wouldn’t have ever gotten involved in this. Just like everyone else, if I wouldn’t have ever gotten involved, he’d be alive.

 

All I was aware of as I was led back in the cell was how dry my mouth was. I had no knowledge of being uncuffed until I noticed the sweat soaking my palms. All this knowledge was too much for me, before literally two minutes ago I wasn’t even sure if any of it was real.

 

Suddenly it hit me, I’m not crazy. What I saw, what I believed happened, actually happened. 

 

I’m not crazy.

 

I felt a lump build in my throat, tears were threatening to spill. I swallowed trying to keep them at bay. I knew it. I knew I wasn’t insane, but The Devourers made me question everything including my own thoughts and memories.

 

“Hey! Sally Face.” I froze. It was that asshole, my ‘fan.’ Judah was his name, that fucking rapist, I kept walking. He sped up until he was in front of me, hand on my chest. 

 

I shrugged out of his grasp, “Fuck off.”

 

“Woah, calm down man. What’s got you so upset? Bad visit with your boyfriend?” I continued walking. “Oh wait. It couldn’t have been your boyfriend, cause you killed him, didn’t you?”

 

I grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into the wall. “You don’t know what the fuck you're talking about.” To be honest I was surprised I was able to since he was almost a foot taller than me. I guess the anger had added to that, he knew nothing of my life, even if I had technically been convicted of Larry’s murder. I remember his name was the first to be said, “We find the defendant guilty of murder in the first degree of Lawrence Johnson, Henry Fisher…” on and on until every name was spoken.

 

Judah laughed as I held him against the wall, fist cocked I was ready to beat the shit out of him no matter the consequences.

 

“Hey! Break it up!” And then before I knew it Officer Helmes was throwing me off him. “Get out of here, Sal!”

 

I hesitated but I listened and walked back to my cell. My blood still boiling, I waited to scream, just like Ash and I had that horrible day. I waited to take off my mask and scream until my throat hurt.

 

No that wasn’t true.

 

What I really wanted was to crawl into Larry’s bed, to feel his arms pull me to his chest while he slept. I wanted to sob into his chest. I know he’d let me rant about all the horrible shit that happened in these last years. And once I’d finally stopped and my tears were finally dry he’d say, “I’m so sorry, baby blue. I love you and I’ll help you through it.” Then he’d follow it up by getting me a hot chocolate. And still to this day, anytime I’d cry or get scared, even here, all I’d want is a fucking hot chocolate. 

 

Finally, in my cell, I could let the tears fall. Since Ron wasn’t there I went immediately to my stash of pictures under my pillow. Almost in a fit, I spread them all out on the floor, hoping to find some connection to the cult, to Larry’s suicide, to anything. I stared for a while feeling as if I was in the shed again, looking for any strand of evidence between even the smallest events. Mentally trying to form red lines between pictures that had no relation.

 

Instead, all I found were my memories laid in front of me in stark contrast against the white floor. To see them all spend before me was honestly a little overwhelming. A lot of my life was filled with pain but those years in Nockfell were worth it. I was actually happy.

 

For the first time since my mom died, I had truly known love. I had been surrounded by it. It seeped out of every picture. My friends' young faces smiled at me from the floor, a collage of my life. I wasn’t even aware of how amazing everything was then. I took for granted those small moments with them. Now they were gone, or insane, or hated me. 

 

And I was on death row.

 

I let out a breath as I collected the pictures back from the floor. I truly was lucky I had Ash to send me them, I know she doesn’t believe me but the pictures really help the loneliness. One caught my eye.

 

It was Larry and me, our faces so close to the camera we took up the whole frame. He was making a face and my eyes were squinting under my face. Larry had kept this on his dresser, tucked into his mirror. God, it had to have been taken in the first year I’d known him, his face was still free of any hair and his cheeks were still a little plump.

 

I smiled at it, it was the first time I truly felt like I belonged with people, none of my friends ever made me feel like a freak. We all had so much hope then. I tucked it into my pocket and put the rest in their hiding spot. I wanted to hang them up but having pictures of you wearing a dress is not a great idea in prison.

 

I spread out on my bed, quickly growing tired, I decide to take a nap. After all, today was truly exhausting and I had nothing else better to do.

 

As I closed my eyes I was immediately transported back to my memories. I had gotten quite good at recognizing it now.

 

Before I even opened my eyes I could smell it. Weed, sweat, maybe a candle?

 

And then I could hear. Soft music, movement, my own breath. His breath.

 

I knew the moment before I opened my eyes. It was my eighteenth birthday, we were in the treehouse. We were together.

 

It wasn’t the first time, no, but it was when it finally seemed to click. Before we were awkward and nervous and stiff. Most of it was me, I was afraid to be seen, afraid to say what I truly wanted. We hadn’t been on the same page. Both horribly inexperienced and still unsure of our bodies. It was a bad mix.

 

But the opposite was true today.

 

Finally, I got the courage to open my eyes. He looked at me through lidded eyes with a fire behind them I’d never seen. What was usually amber now seemed like a blazing orange. He grabbed my thigh tighter as a small moan escaped his swollen lips.

 

I steady myself against his chest as he increased the pace. It was beautiful, toned and tan a small coating of hair on the muscle. Suddenly I was too aware of my naked face and let my hair fall over it.

 

Almost immediately he reached up and tucked my hair behind my ears. “No, I want to see you.” It was a breathless whisper.

 

His voice had been shaky and thick, weight down with lust and maybe a hint of embarrassment. It made me swell, he wanted to see me. I wasn’t beautiful or even attractive but he wished to see me anyway. At this moment he wanted to look at my battered face.

 

We were perfectly in sync. He was under me and around me and inside me. And I was peaceful. There was no fear, no anxiety, no sadness.

 

Just peace.

 

A true contentment I’d never experienced.

 

“Fuck... Sal.” He breathed out, I leaned over him needing to feel his lips. “I fucking love you.” He said in the blue curtain my hair had created over us.

 

I smiled as I propped myself back up, “I love you too.”

 

He started faster, harder as an embarrassing noise escaped me, looking down, his face was consumed by that beautiful gapped grin.

 

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. The only thought I could form was him.

It repeated in my mind with every movement.

 

Him, him, him.

 

Us.

 

US.

 

That’s all that mattered, us. We would do it together. We were together.

 

I could feel my breathing increase, my heart pound in my chest, sweat on my back.

 

I opened my eyes.

 

Him, I needed to see him.

 

But as I looked down it wasn’t Larry. Not the Larry I remember.

 

My stomach churned. 

 

Instead of beautiful chocolate eyes, I was met with glazed white ones. Tan chest now sickly gray and veins ran just under the skin.

 

Just a moment ago he was radiating live but now I was peering down at his corpse under me.  I stopped all movement terrified. He reached to my face again and his cold hands lingered over the scarred surface sending a chill down my spine. His eyes were flooded with tears. He pulled my face to his resting my forehead on his.

 

Our eyes met, “I’ve missed you so much, Sal. I miss my baby blue.”

 

Rather than waking in a panic, I woke peacefully. I felt rested. At least until I thought back on the dream. That was wrong, that wasn’t how the memory went.

 

But before I could think of that I had to clear my mind of the image of his body. I grabbed the picture back from my pocket and just stared at it. I took in every figure of his face hoping to forget the horrible image I’d just seen.

 

I tried to inhale but it was more of a wheeze as my heart continued to increase its pace. Every other memory was exactly the same. Every detail, every person, even every word, was exactly as I remembered. But that wasn’t. Regardless of how he looked, Larry never said he missed me I know that. He had no reason to, we were practically inseparable then.

 

And only a few moments after that Maple had walked in on us and we were barely able to get covered. We had looked ridiculous, Larry pulling up his jeans and I had been wearing my sweater as a dress as we vainly tried to deny anything was happening.

 

Something more was going on here. I opened my journal and began studying every entry I’ve made, all the memories I’d lived through my dreams one after another. Then, after about an hour, it clicked. 

 

Every single one was with Larry.

 

Every single one was in the treehouse. 

 

This whole time I thought my mind was replaying my greatest hits because I was gonna die soon. But, no they weren’t my memories.

 

They were Larry’s. He was trying to contact me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... its probably obvious but I've never attempted a sex scene before so please let me know what you think. I am open to constructive criticism. Also so it's late but I was freaking out. Hopefully, I should be back to updating on Monday.  
> -Cork


	8. Chapter 8

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes again was how dark it was. It isn’t pure darkness like you’d expect though, it was more of light almost completely covered. Tiny rays through a curtain. Sun just setting at twilight. No not setting, more like rising. That unsettling in between darkness in the early morning, when you’ve just woken up and the darkness doesn’t feel quite right. It reminds me of cold winter mornings walking to school with Sal. I always hated dark mornings, I was never a morning person and having to function when the sun hadn’t even raised was torture.

 

I had thought the darkness in me would go away, I was hoping for peace. That was fucking stupid of me. I had spent the last six years seeing what happened to people who died at Addison Apartments and yet I hoped it’d be easier than dealing with whatever would come of my life.

 

Now I was just stuck here in this treehouse for who knows how long. That’s the second thing you notice, time isn’t what you think. When you’re alive time guides your whole life, it’s so easy to rely on. You think it's a simple line to follow, that it’s a path and you take it one step at a time through everything. Year after year, month after month, week after week. This then this then this. 

 

But here that’s not true. My memories are in a big knot in my head each existing only at the moment I can think of it, there’s no before or after, just a snapshot of life before a completely random one will come to mind next. Each moment existing in its own vacuum. Most of the time I can’t even remember my own death, it's so fuzzy. Like trying to remember a night of heavy drinking only key moments surface while being completely unsure how they connect.  

 

There’s no light here, the eternal dawn will never come. But I’ve learned to escape it, fitting since that’s how I lived as well, finding any escape I could. Painting or weed or Sally... I let my memories consume me. At first, it was hard to do, it made my head pound trying to focus on it, at least until Rosenberg freed me.

 

Damn, seeing Sal on the roof. There was light again, I had forgotten what life looked like, but then he was there, radiating and warm. He had yelled at me tears were falling from under his mask, I could see them even in the rain. God, it was hell, I’m such a coward, all I wanted was rest and I didn’t want to work for it. I wanted to tell him I was stupid and he had every right to hate me but I knew we didn’t have time, so I told him we could finish this. I should have known that was foolish too. 

 

After that, I couldn’t see him anymore but I could hear him, or more specifically the guitar, Cherry was what he had called it. I remember after I faded back I thought I’d never have any other contact with him again but when I first heard it, I had nearly cried. I wasn’t lost yet. Those first notes were strummed with shaking hands. 

 

That had been the first time I had clearly been able to remember anything from my life and it was all-consuming. With the blink of an eye, I was in Sal’s bedroom, he was packing for a weekend at my house when my eye caught on a red guitar. 

 

“I didn’t know you played the guitar.” In the memory my mouth moved without me thinking it, I was just puppet. He froze and looked back at me, eyes wide. “Can you play something for me?”

 

“I don’t know. I’m not very good…”

 

I ran to him and dropped to my knees, “ Please Sal.” I begged. “It's so cool that you can even play at all. Please, please, please!”

 

He sighed, “Fine.” He reluctantly sat on his bed and grabbed the guitar. Was he shaking? “Um, can you close your eyes it's easier to play without my face.”

 

“Of course.” I closed my eyes, covered them and waited.

 

I heard a deep breath and suddenly the guitar sounded in the space, I knew the song but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then suddenly there was singing, I was so shocked I nearly opened my eyes.

 

“ _ I’ve just seen a face, I can’t forgot get the time or place… _ ” He sung on, it was an old Beatles song one of my mom’s favorites. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard, his voice was lower than expected and was a little hoarse but it was filled with so much emotion as if he had written the words himself. As if they spoke to him. They certainly spoke to me.

 

“... _ Had it been another day, I might have looked the other way, and I’d have never been aware… _ ”

 

Each line was staring into my soul, why had he picked this song? Did he… like me? No, he can’t that’s stupid Larry, he so sweet and warm, and you're not. It must just be random.

 

“... _ I’ve been alone and, I have missed things and kept out of sight, for other girls were never quite like this...” _

 

I just listened now, I could feel the smile on my face, I was so relaxed. I was bathing in his light and I would stay there in his light as long as he’d let me. 

 

“... _ Oh, falling, yes I am falling and she keeps calling me back again.”  _ And then there was silence, it seemed to last forever but I didn’t dare open my eyes. “Okay, you can open them.”

 

But when I opened them I was back in the darkness, listening for his light once again. Until I heard a final note, I hoped to hear it again but I never did. He was really gone, but I had learned how to project my memories. Once caged back in my wooden prison, I’d think of him constantly sometimes it even felt like he was there and the dawn seemed like it might finally break. 

 

Until the memory would fade again and our treehouse would be empty and run down. Still so consumed in the darkness. Sometimes I would get a glimpse of the other side but I was never strong enough or cared enough to really materialize. 

 

Then one day, during a memory, I had become hyper-aware that it was different than the others, I could feel him I could feel Sal, just on the other side. I wasn’t just a memory of him, it was really him that living radiance was in the air. I tried to scream to him but I was stuck in my puppet self and the only words that came out were the ones I had spoken at that moment.

 

After that I tried harder to contact him, Rosenberg must have known somehow since she told me I needed to contact him because she still needed his help. I agreed to help but only because it meant I had a better chance of seeing him. Every chance I’d get I’d try to contact him, I tried to pull memories that meant a lot to us. Our first kiss, laughing together, him reading out loud, studying for tests, painting, smoking. 

 

I was getting stronger each time and I knew what I had to do. I conjured what we had called our first ‘real’ time. Sal’s birthday. The quiet Frank Sinatra I had put on since I knew he loved it but would never ask, the abandoned joint in the old mug we used as an ashtray. I had poured everything into it every second of love and hope and life I had left in me and he had glowed. He was there. 

 

The only light in my darkness was there, my full moon was back. Even when I was alive I had often thought back on this moment and think that nothing in life would be more gorgeous than my Sal was in that moment. He had been exposed and trusting and so happy, and he had deserved to be happy. I had once thought I’d be the one to make him happy but I was weak.

 

Finally, I broke from my puppet and he had seen me, oh I hated the horror he had on his face as he looked down on me. But he had seen me and he would finally get it. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done, my whole spirit was drained from it. My fake body had collapsed to the ground but this time there really was a light on the horizon. This time the dawn would finally break. I just knew it.


	9. Chapter 9

It had been a whole week. Seven nights and seven days, and still nothing. Somehow the dreams had completely stopped. For the last month, I had been begging for peace from the horribly blissful dreams, just begging for them to stop but now that they were gone, I had nothing. How had I not realized he was trying to contact me? How could I be so stupid?

 

Each night I had tried so hard to block out the memories but now I was trying so hard to remember. I’d lay in bed and think as hard as I could of a memory. I’d meditate on it. Think of every little detail I could. A smile, a song, a feeling, I’d form the memory perfectly in my mind and play it over and over.

 

But when I’d finally fall asleep there was just nothingness. No memory, no treehouse. No Larry. Just black. I didn’t even have the nightmares anymore. And this emptiness was driving me insane.

 

I just wish I could have told him I miss him too. 

 

I tried to focus on my work assignment but instead, I just found myself staring at a stack of books. My mind was blank, I felt like I hadn’t slept in days and I was trying so desperately to piece together everything in my mind. Now I just empty. Empty and angry. I was mad at myself for being so stupid and mad at the situation. Mad I let everyone down.

 

“Inmate Fisher! You’re here to work, if you don’t want to I’m sure we’ll be able to find someone who does!” Officer Cruz yelled at me.

 

For some reason I felt the need to scream at him, to tell him to fuck off. I wasn’t sure if it was the sleep exhaustion or just pure stress but luckily I was able to hold my tongue. Instead of risking opening my mouth to give an answer I simply grabbed the pile I’d been eyeing and moved to place them back in their home on the cheap shelves. 

 

It’s kind of funny, before all this I use to always escape to the Nockfell County Library when I needed to think. It was a decent sized library and never really seemed to be used as it should so I’d just wander the shelves of the empty and enjoy the silence and dusty smell of the hundreds and hundreds of books. It had been comforting, but now seeing the tall shelves of the prison library had the opposite effect. As a kid, the shelves were guardians I could trust to keep me hidden from all the terrors of my life. Now they were just walls, unscalable and towering. 

 

I tried to keep the anxiety at bay as I shelved book after book. Luckily following the system of the shelves helped keep me distracted until only one was left in my hand. “The History of Nockfell Penal System”

 

I flipped it over and read the back of the cover, In big bold letters it read, “Written by Nockfell Historical Society.” I skimmed it as it talked about Nockfell history,  prison history, and the building. I walked back to the desk with it, I couldn’t help but think of what Travis said about finding more information here, maybe this was a start to that. There had be something useful in here, right?

 

I packed up the cart and started my rounds through the blocks, Cruz following right behind me the whole time. Cell to cell I handed out books to the inmates, I always liked this part of working in the Library, everyone here enjoyed getting a book. There was so little to look forward to in prison but having that one simple luxury of a book was a lifeline.

 

As I got to mine and Ron’s cell, I left the new book on my desk. As I set it on the pile of novels, for some reason I felt guilty, I know this was the opposite of what Alex wanted from me. She kept telling me not to dwell in the past but instead experience life in the present. And of course, I really wanted to move on from my past but this wasn’t over, so I can’t move on yet.

 

I tried to breathe the guilt away as I grabbed the stack of books on my desk leaving only the new one and my copy of the Iliad, I’d keep that one for now. 

 

***

 

“Tell me how your dreams have been since I last saw you?”

 

“I haven’t had any,” I answered honestly.

 

Alex looked up from her notepad, “Well, how does that feel?”

 

I withheld an eye roll, I hated questions like that. They always seemed impersonal to me, so clinical. Less like concern and more like research. “I feel fine.”

 

In her typical way, she just stared at me, waiting for an answer I didn’t want to give. So, I just looked back at her. She put her notepad down, “Sal, what is really going on?”

 

“Nothing is, well nothing more than being on death row,” I deadpanned back.

 

Alex narrowed her eyes, “I’ve known you long enough now to know that’s a lie.”

 

I huffed out a chuckle, “You don’t know me, Alex.” 

 

“Well then, tell me something I don’t know about you? Let me get to know you so I can help you?”

 

I looked around the room, at the small succulent on her desk, to the framed photo of a beach on the wall, to her decorated bookcase, anything to keep me from answering her. For some reason, I could feel anger bubbling just under the surface. It frightened me, I finally felt like I was getting my problems under control, but with all this coming back up I just wanted to scream.

 

“Sal, I can tell you’re angry and I really just want to help you. I’m not here to judge you, I’m just here to listen,” She tried reassuring me.

 

I waited another moment.

 

“Someone I knew from school came to visit me,” I decided I could talk about that without going too far into everything that happened.

 

“Do they visit often?”

 

“It was the first time anyone has ever visited me.”

 

She wrote something down, “And were you close friends during school?”

 

I laughed, “No, Travis was actually my bully, he made my life hell for as long as I knew him.”

 

“Huh, then why do you think he visited you?”

 

I was quiet for a moment as I thought. “Well, he said he wanted to apologize and that he was leaving town,” I paused again. “And he mentioned Larry.”

 

“How did you feel about him apologizing to you.”

 

“I was mad. Mad that he hadn’t early and mad that he had known all along,” I felt my rage pulsing again at the memory.

 

“Knowing what?”

 

I sighed, completely unsure what to tell her. Can I even trust her? I guess I will never know for sure. Maybe I should just tell her the truth, she did seem to want to help. Plus why does it even matter anymore?

 

“What did he know, Sal?” She pushed.

 

Fuck it, “He knew about the cult, the killings, the Demon everything. He told me he did, that he would have testified but it was too dangerous for him. I mean I always assumed his family and their church was in on it but for it to be confirmed was frustrating.” I stopped myself, afraid of sounding crazy. Uh, of course, I sound crazy.

 

Alex looked at me calmly, “Are you experiencing hallucinations again?”

 

The question was a punch to the gut, of course, she didn’t believe me. I could feel this horrible smile on my face and this bitter taste in my mouth. “It was real, Alex, I bet you they record those visits, so there’s proof. Travis came and he told me it was all true, I’m not lying and I wasn’t hallucinating either.”

 

“I don’t think you’re lying, Sal.”

 

I hated this. The anger, the helplessness, the desperation to be believed, it made me into someone I truly disliked. I’m not usually an angry person, but this was infuriating. “But you don’t believe me.”

 

She looked at me for a long moment, “Well you need to think of how it seems to me, cults and demons and ghosts. Sal, those things are delusions.”

 

I could feel hot tears building in my eyes. I despise that too. I’ve always cried when I was angry and it was embarrassing. Its difficult to feel strong when tears are running down your face. I took a shaky breath, “Well then look for yourself. I know you aren’t from Nockfell so you haven’t been around it, but if you look into it you’ll understand.”

 

“I know you’re upset Sal but this is the reality of the situation. I think we should up your antipsychotics.”

 

“I’m not psychotic, Alex.”

 

“Sal-” 

 

I leaned forward, “I know what everyone thinks of me. I know what I’m saying sounds crazy but please, Alex, If you’ve ever thought I was even slightly credible, you’ll look for the visit recording before you up my dose.” She stared back at me her dark blue eyes looking straight into my one working eye. “Please. I can’t take any more meds.”

 

Alex observed me for what felt like ten minutes, I never once broke contact with her. It was barely noticeable but eventually, she gave me a short nod.

 

I let out a breath I had been holding. Finally, I had an ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again everyone!!  
> I just wanted to say I am so overwhelmed by all the amazing support from all of you. Reading the awesome comments and seeing people leave kudos makes me so happy. I never thought really anyone would read/like this story, so thank you all. 
> 
> I also wanted to let you guys know that I'm going on vacation for a week and I won't be back home until Monday. Hopefully, I should have an update for you but I'm unsure if I'll have the time. (not to mention I'm working on another project as well that I'm really excited about)
> 
> Sorry this became rambling   
> -Cork


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
> I'm back finally! So sorry this chapter took so long. I Also just wanted to give a huge shout out to my friend Mickey. She's the only person in my personal life that I let read any of my work and she's been a huge help to bounce ideas off of and grow my confidence in writing. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Let me know what you think!  
> -Cork

Another morning spent in the dusty basement library, I was getting sick of this. Sick of my lack of progress, sick of standing still, sick of pointless research. Really I was just sick of all of it, for the first time since I got arrested I felt like I shouldn’t be here. Not because I didn’t feel guilty for my actions, but more and more I just felt like I could do so much more if I wasn’t restricted in these walls. That I could finally be doing something to fix my wrongs. I finally had a purpose but it was impossible to fulfill which just left me more desperate. All I could do was read and wait.

 

By now, I had finished the first book, which had almost no useful information. The only thing that was even remotely insightful was that pages were missing, probably redacted in accordance with prison rules. But I couldn’t help but speculate that something seriously important could have been in those pages. After that, I checked out almost all books by Nockfell Historical Society only to find that every single one had missing pages.

 

And that only frustrated me more. I had learned nothing except trivial facts about the founding of this godforsaken town. Stupid shit like what buildings were built when and early settlers being dicks to the native tribes, you know normal small town American stuff. However, there was also some sections about the founding families. And that wasn’t completely useless only because I recognized a few names, Rosenberg, Addison, Phelps, Holmes, all had been here since the early days of Nockfell. 

 

I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised that was the only information I found, I had dedicated my whole life to researching these conspiracies and none of that had ever came easily. I would just have to fight harder. I would do this until the day they executed me if I had too. I will beat them once and for all. I would do this for every one they took from me.

 

I forced myself out of my thoughts as I packed up my cart to do my usual rounds of the blocks. I tried to stay focused as I fell into the familiar routine. Take a book, give a book, move to the next cell.

 

I was in my own block now, moving from one familiar face to the next. As I got to one cell I went to grab the book handed to me, but as I reached out my arm was grabbed and I was pulling forward until my face was against the metal door. “Thanks, baby.” He said with a wink. It was Judah, of course. My most recent tormentor.

 

I pulled back trying to free myself, but his grip was too tight. I could feel my heartbeat in my wrist against his hand as I began to panic. I looked back to the guard who was talking to another officer a few cells away.

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, Sally.” His face was close to mine through the slot and I felt my anxiety skyrocket. I was helpless and trapped at the disposal of this madman. I felt small, alone. I could have sworn I even smelled the musty incense from my past.

 

“Just let me go, Judah,” I begged, trying to make my voice sound less scared than I was.

 

Instead, his hand moved up to my face, I tried to jerk away but he just pulled my arm harder keeping me from moving. “You know when I watched your trial on TV, I always wondered what you were hiding under here,” He whispered as he ran a finger down my mask.

 

My breathing hitched at the pressure, my hand was shaking in his grasp. I looked around for an escape, but there was nothing, he got me at the perfect time. I barely even felt I was there anymore. Instead of an adult, I was a child, lonely and too trusting. I thought I saw the painted ceiling of that old church, I thought I heard muffled hymns. I thought I felt much larger hands on me. 

 

I snapped out of it, my eyes landed back on him, his eyes were emerald, boring into me with a predatory look that sent shivers through my body. I had seen that look before, I knew what it meant.

 

Suddenly, he released my arm and I flew back knocking into the book cart behind me. I took off moving on, trying to ignore the laughter I heard from his cell. Tears were stinging in my eyes as I finished the last few cells. I couldn’t shake that fear, that primal need to run. I wanted to take off and run as far as I could and that feeling mixed with being in prison just raised my anxiety even more.

 

I tried to calm my breathing, tried to ground myself. I looked at everything around me, concrete and metal and orange. I listened to everything too, guards harsh steps, talking, loud metal banging. I took another breath.

 

_ I’m okay. I am safe.  _ I reassured myself with the comforting lie as I returned to the library to finish my tasks.

 

I grabbed the stack and headed to their assigned location. I tried not to think about the growing problem with Judah. Before he had been just a nuisance but today… today was different. Not only did he threaten me but he was violent. How did this even happen? I’ve barely interacted with the kid.

 

I remember that first day I met him when he called me a ‘fan.’ The sickening feeling I had when I heard that word. It was disgusting. I know people like him, truly bad people. He wasn’t lashing out like Travis or confused like me. No, he liked that feeling. He liked having control of others and seeing others suffer.

 

I hated it, but he scared me, on a level I hadn’t felt since I was young. The panic coursing through me reminded me of the old nightmares I used to have. I’d constantly see black dogs and bloody bodies and my own gore filled face. Then I’d wake, screams piercing through my consciousness, sitting in my bed. And even more devastating than the dreams was that by the time I was thirteen, Dad had even stopped checking on me.

 

But once I moved to Nockfell, I finally had support again. I’d wake in my sweats, terrified and confused about what was real and what wasn’t but I knew I had someone just a click away. I’d hit that button and ask, “Larry face?” and immediately he’d be there any time of the night.

 

I was shaking adrenaline rushing through me with each heartbeat. It felt like a countdown, just ticking away until I’d finally drop over dead. But no, I wasn't that lucky instead I had to fight. This wasn’t over yet and I wouldn’t give up.

 

I had been so caught up in my thoughts, I hadn’t seen the loose brick in the floor. The books I’d be holding fell to the ground with an echoing bang, as I tripped over it. I hit the ground hard barely catching myself.  _ Fuck.  _ My wrist throbbed, I must have landed on it weird.

 

I quickly started cleaning up the books trying to ignore the pain in my arm. If I didn’t have this cleaned up quick Cruz would be pissed. As I grabbed one of the books my hand landed on the loose brick that had caused this whole mess. 

 

I went to reposition it to prevent this from happening again but that’s when I noticed something. A small engraving in the brick in the bottom corner, ‘DOG.’ My blood ran cold and I was frozen looking at those three small letters. I knew what they stood for but I hoped I was wrong as I suddenly snapped back into it. I grabbed the brick up to get a closer look.

 

There was nothing out of the ordinary as far as I could tell. It was just a normal fucking brick, another red herring. Another waste of my time. I tossed it to the side.

 

Only then did I catch sight of the hole where the brick was. It was deep, larger than it should be. My heart pounded as I reached my arm in the hole. I was right it was much larger than it looked, I felt around the dirt until finally, my hand landed on something. 

 

I pulled it up and dusted it off. It was an old book, maybe a few hundred years and leather bound. The papers were yellowed and stiff, I opened the cover. In faded cursive were the words, “Nockfell town meeting the Twentieth of October 1698.”

 

This was it, this was real information. A record of early Nockfell colonist, I started to skim the entry, “The founding families met today to discuss the scarce harvest as well as steadily dropping temperatures…”

 

“Inmate Fisher! Let’s go its time!” Cruz’s voice echoed through the basement. Are you fucking kidding me? Shit. 

 

I shut the book and looked to the shelves next to me. There was no way I could get it out of here today, it was too risky to try to sneak it and putting it back could lead to someone else discovering it. I couldn’t risk that.

 

I moved down a few shelves and removed a few books, I placed the ledger flat against the wall of the shelf and replaced the books. I could hear his boots against the brick floor getting closer, I looked back to the pile of books still on the ground. 

 

There was no time to clean it up so instead, I prioritized the brick. I grabbed it and flipped it so the engraved side wasn’t showing. And got to work on the books.

 

“Inmate, what the hell is this?” He asked finally rounding the corner of the row of shelves.

 

“I tripped and dropped some books. I’m almost finished.” I responded trying to keep my voice from showing the mix of excitement and fear that was coursing through me.

 

Cruz looked at me suspiciously. My blood was rushing in my ears but I willed my hands not to shake as I finished grabbing the books. “I...I was supposed to shelf these.”

 

He rolled his eyes, “We’re already late enough, you’ll miss count if we don’t leave now. Just leave them on the desk.”

 

I followed him back to the desk and back to my cell. As the door closed for count, I stared out to the block but the only thought I could focus on was what could possibly be in that ledger.


	11. Chapter

The only thing I could think since my last shift in the library was that ledger. Yesterday was, of course, the day I didn’t work and I had been a wreck. My anxiety hadn’t dropped at all and all I wanted was to get back in the library and see what I could find out. 

 

But for now, I had to finish another disgusting meal. I hated eating here. Honestly, I just hated eating in general, ever since the accident I felt uncomfortable eating in front of others. And here there was no such thing as privacy which resulted in avoiding food as much as I could.

 

However, I promised Della I’d eat so I had been. Not to mention, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get a little stronger with everything going on with Judah. I doubt there’s any chance of me actually being able to defend myself but I guess its better than nothing. I looked at my wrist, it was still killing me and had now started bruising.  _ Fuck.  _ I think I may have actually hurt it when I fell.

 

“Hey, Sally,” great, Judah. Why couldn’t he leave me alone? I just didn’t say anything and kept picking at the piece of toast I was eating. “Mind if I sit here?”

 

He obviously didn’t wait for an answer and sat as close to me as possible, I could feel his leg pressed against mine. I tried not to react but I felt like my whole body was on high alert. He was facing me and I could feel his eyes boring into me. “So you never told me what’s under there?” He leaned even closer to almost whisper in my ear, “You know there were so many rumors during your trial. I was obsessed with the coverage.I would lay in bed at night and think about what was under that little mask.”

 

I still didn’t respond. Even though my whole body burned with the mixed urge to scream or beat his brains in.

 

“Something about you always intrigued me…” I tried to zone out what he was saying, and my eyes landed on Ron. He gave me a look of worry but I shook it off when I felt a hand land my leg. I stiffened even more. 

 

I scouted over out of his reach. I had dealt with bullies my whole life, that’s all this was I tried to convince myself. I could deal with this. “Oh don’t be like that, Sally Face.”

 

My anger was building, this horrific criminal had for some reason taken an interest in me. I was afraid though, which was even worse, I didn’t want this to happen again. “I don’t get why you won’t just leave me alone?”  I finally yelled. I noticed a few men at the next table turned to me. That’s when I knew it was a mistake to react.

 

He smiled and moved closer to me again. “Because I want you, Sally and I’m not going to leave you alone anytime soon. So you better get us to it soon.” I felt my skin erupt into goosebumps as I struggled to swallow. As he stood, Judah bent down just enough to be at ear level, “Bye for now baby.”

 

He stood up and I was left with every bad thought I could conjure. This wasn’t just a bully, I couldn’t handle this. I had to accept that he may actually hurt me and I was helpless to it. I didn’t have any friends here, none that could help me at least. I was alone and helpless.

 

I felt the tears sting in my eye as painful memories of my childhood flooded back. My past out dad on the couch, my aching stomach leading me to a safe place, my mom’s church. If only I knew how wrong I was.

 

I swallowed my fear as I emptied my tray and heading to work assignment. I had to push all my past trauma down because now all I could afford to focus on was that ledger. It had answers and today I would finally find them. My whole life felt like a never-ending chase to catch up on what they knew.

 

But now there was finally a chance for me to get ahead of it, an opportunity to glance inside the inner workings of this organization. And nothing, not even threats, would make me lose that focus. 

 

Even if they did terrify me.

 

I shook the thought from my head as I finally got to the library. Luckily, Cruz wasn’t my guard today so I’d have a bit more freedom. Instead, it was one of the older guys that I knew would just stay by the desk most of the time. And that was exactly what I needed to get some useful information. 

 

I quickly grabbed the cart and moved down the long alleyways between shelves, trying my hardest not to look suspicious.  _ This was totally normal, Sal. You do this every day.  _

 

The old metal wheels clanged loudly against the ancient bricks. Was it always this loud? Each inch was a deafening scream, a siren calling for attention. Certainly, the guard had to hear, but he’d never know I wasn’t just doing what I always did.

 

I desperately gripped to the old metal as I slowly approached my hiding spot. I knew then that my hands would smell of harsh iron for the rest of the day. The smell brought back a sickly memory of sitting in a holding cell suffocated by that mineral stench. As I finally arrived at the loose brick, I let the thought fall to the background. Now I had to focus. 

 

As the noisy cart came to a stop I listened for a disturbance, any detection that the guard may be coming. 

 

Nothing.

 

Perfect.

 

I anxiously moved to the shelf I’d hidden it and pulled off the book unceremoniously until once again that smooth leather was in my hands. For a moment I just stared at the weathered brown cover, a piece of leather thread tied around the front to hold it close. It was real and more importantly, it was still here. 

 

Ultimately, I untangled the string and flung the cover open. I couldn’t help but run my hand over the script writing before reading it.

 

_ Nockfell Town meeting _

_ Twentieth of October, 1698 _

 

_ The founding families met today to discuss the scarce harvest as well as steadily dropping temperatures. We can already see an end to our supplies and with the unusually cold temperatures, it is doubtful that the land will yield any more harvest. The colony has only just begun and yet we fear we will not survive the winter. _

 

_ Pastor Phelps says we must keep faith and that if we pray, God will reward us but how can we when our children's’ lives are in danger. I have lived through quite a few harsh winters in my years but with food already dwindling so is my faith. I believe drastic measures may be in order. _

 

_ Some have even been whispering that the natives have cursed us after the bloody battle defending our land this summer. However, I do not resign to such superstitious ideology. We are Christians and we must not fall victim to such pagantre. _

 

_ We must survive this. Please God spare us. _

 

I was pulled from the page as I heard a noise. After carefully listening I flipped to the next entry.

 

_ Twenty-ninth of October 1698 _

 

_ In these last few weeks, our situation has only worsened. Though it is barely autumn, it feels much more akin to mid-winter. The soil is as solid as stone and each morning the crops are overtaken by deadly frost.  _

 

_ The colony seems as if surrounded by a grim fog. Unless something changes soon, we’ll all be dead by February.  _

 

_ The families are meeting again in a week hopefully there will be some good news. _

  
  


_ Seventh of November, 1698 _

 

_ Today we discussed the remaining food rations. It’s not going to last much longer so every grain must be accounted for. Even the small livestock we have seem to be struggling. Soon we will slaughter almost all of them in hopes of making our stores last. They’ll die soon anyway since nothing can be spared for them. _

 

_ Rumors of curses have continued to burn like fire through the town. There are even reports of the Rosenberg’s eldest speaking to angels. Apparently, she came to the Pastor saying that the angel could help us as long as we followed its instructions. It was even brought up in the meeting but I do not know what to think of this.  _

 

_ The girl has always been troubled and I fear she may have just gone mad from hunger. After all I fear that even I am just barely holding on to my sanity.  _

 

_ Please Lord show us the way. _

 

Rosenberg girl? I wonder if it could be the same, Rosenberg. She was definitely at least over a hundred but could she be over three hundred?

 

Time was running out, I had to hurry if I didn’t want to raise the alarm. Quickly, I picked the books I needed to and hid the journal in the stack. A book on a cart of books shouldn’t be too suspicious and luckily my cell was in the middle of my route. This would work. This simple book held all the secrets I needed.

 

A tinge of guilt overtook me with the excitement of new information. My first instinct was still to call Todd and all I could think of was him sitting in that hospital. I wish we still had the option to order pizza and theorize over a few beers.

 

I missed him.

 

I missed all of them.

 

Before I could devolve more into my thoughts I arrived at my cell. I took advantage of Ron being absent and hurriedly hid the book under the mattress. It was a temporary solution but for now, it was all I had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!!  
> Thanks so much for being patient with this update. I've been working on another Sally fanfic and I hope to have it published soon. As always let me know what you think!!!  
> Cork


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!! This a long one!!  
> -cork

I continued to drive myself insane with speculation as I was lead down a hall to Alex’s office. For some reason, the cuffs felt heavier than usual, like old iron shackles weighted down with a cliche ball and chain instead of the lightweight steel they were made on. I was hyper fixating on that weight, the cold metal on my exposed wrists, especially my injured one. It was the closest I’d been to icing it or really doing anything else to help it heal. I knew I should make sure it was okay but at the same time, I knew that could lead to even more problems.

 

I knew mysterious bruises could raise the alarm for protective custody which I had no interest in being on that. Not to mention the possibility of it being broken meaning I  would probably lose my work assignment for a few weeks and if I knew anything about this town that would be plenty of time to get rid of any evidence still hidden there.

 

I pushed against the restraints just slightly to focus myself, I had to stop getting lost in my own thoughts and anxiety all the time. I didn't have that luxury anymore. I remember one of the things Alex taught me to control my anxiety and went through the motions of holding and releasing my breath on the right counts.

 

“What the hell are you doing Inmate?” Cruz asked in response to the unusual breathing I was practicing.

 

I rolled my eyes, “It’s a breathing exercise.”

 

“Well can you not it's annoying. Just breathe normally. Damnit.”

 

I stopped and finished the walk in silence happy to finally arrive. Alex was looking through an oversized bag behind her desk as Cruz uncuffed me and I sunk into my usual chair. 

 

Alex turned as the door closed with a click. “So I have a surprise for you today, Sal.”

 

For a second my heart stuttered with anxiety, “You do?”

 

“Yeah. So this weekend I was at the mall looking at the CD store and I came across this,” She pulled out a CD case from the bag that I instantly recognized. A simple black cover with the words “Sanity’s Fall” written in distorted text. I couldn’t help but smile at it. “I was hoping it’d cheer you up I know how much music means to you. Do you want me to play it?”

 

“Um yes, please.”

 

She smiled back as she grabbed a small CD player from the same oversized bag and started the album. The music was so familiar as every lyric whipped through my mind, each note still engraved in my memory. I closed my eyes and let it wash over me, I felt like I was traveling through time. I was seventeen again, it was my first concert and I had an amazing view of the dark and smokey venue propped on Larry’s shoulders. He was laughing as I attempted to headbang nearly causing both of us to tumble over into the crowd.

 

He passed me a tightly rolled blunt that had apparently come out of nowhere and as I took a hit I could overhear a conversation. “You’re girlfriend’s fucking metal man.”

 

“Oh no. He’s a boy,” I heard Larry respond, he wasn’t quite use to me being misgendered yet and still felt the need to correct even though it didn’t bother me much.

 

“Sorry, you’re boyfriend’s fucking metal then!” The man yelled back.

 

“Uh… yeah, he fucking is!” Larry shouted over the music. I could still feel the grin that was overtaking my face under my mask at that moment. It had been the first time he had officially called me his boyfriend.

 

“What are you thinking of, Sal,” Alex’s voice pulled me from my memory.

I opened my eyes and felt my heart sink as I lurched back to my unfortunate reality. As I’ve learned from my dreamless sleep recently, I can’t live in the fantasy of my memories anymore. I lightly bit the inside of my mouth. “My first concert.”

 

“Could you tell me how it made you feel.”

 

I sighed, I had stopped fighting her on the therapy language. With everything going on, it was kind of nice to just talk. “It was really... good.”

 

“And was it this band? Who did you go with?” She asked as the heavy metal blared in the background. It felt incredibly out of place in the calmly decorated office.

 

“Yeah. Sanity’s Fall. They came to town in the summer when I was seventeen, Larry and I saved every penny we could to buy tickets. We literally went to the ticket booth with bags of change.”

 

“I bet they loved that,” She smiled.

 

I chuckled back, “Yeah but we really didn’t care. At least Larry didn’t, I kept apologizing. But we got them regardless and camped all day to get a good spot. It was one the best days I’ve ever had.”

 

“That sounds really nice.”

 

“Yeah, it really was.”

 

“So what other music do you like? Maybe I can bring some more CDs?” She asked with a wink.

 

I smiled a little at the dorky mannerism as I thought. “Well, pretty much any Metal or Punk.” I responded trying to think of specifics, “Oh and Frank Sinatra.”

 

“Frank Sinatra? I’m surprised.” 

 

“Yeah well, I tried not to limit myself to any one genre.”

 

Alex gave an understanding nod. “And how did you get into that? Seems a little out of your demographic.”

 

I thought for a moment. To be honest, it wasn’t something I intentionally sought out. I remember looking through my dad’s old records as we were cleaning the attic. However, cleaning devolved into sitting in the creaking room as he showed me album after album he liked. It was one of the few moments from my childhood that I felt we actually bonded.

 

Of course, it had to come to an end. I pulled out a ripped case with the most ridiculous picture of a couple dancing on it, I looked up to him. “Dad, what’s this one?”

 

“What is it, Sal?” He asked as he turned to see what I was showing him. In a heartbeat, his eyes went back to their usual glazed sadness. “It’s nothing. Come on we need a break.”

 

We never did get back to cleaning, but some nights after he passed out I’d sneak into the attic and play it just loud enough for me to hear. As I sat looking out the round window of my childhood home at the Jersey sky. I knew it was her’s and that alone made it valuable to me. I was even able to sneak it to Nockfell with us.

 

“Sal?” Alex asked leaning forward. “Are you okay? I lost you there for a moment.”

 

I cleared my stinging throat. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

 

“Can you tell me why you started listening to Frank Sinatra?”

 

I paused. It hadn’t occurred to me just how meaningful that music had been to me. “Um, my mom liked it and found some old records...”

 

“I see. So, it made you feel close to her?” She asked.

 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

 

She put her notes down which I knew meant she was serious. “You know it’s quite common for children to seek interests of parents that have passed. Was there anything else you did when you missed your mom?”

 

I felt that familiar feeling rise in my stomach. I wasn’t sure if I should tell her, the only people I ever told were my dad and Larry. Of all the therapist I went to in my life I’d always refuse to speak if the subject came up. I hated it. I hated the feeling it brought with it. I hated how stupid I had been at the time. 

 

Not only stupid that I let it happen but that I didn't tell anyone. I remember my dad crying when he found out and asking over and over why I didn’t tell him, that he could have helped me. I remember how stupid I’d felt.  _ Why hadn’t I told him?  _ The thought was stuck in my head for months.

 

“Uh…” I begin. No. “I… I don't want to talk about it.” effectively shutting the conversation off.

 

Unfortunately, my refusal only seemed to spark more interest in her. “May I ask why you don’t want to answer? You know this time is for you to let me help you. You can trust me, Sal.”

 

“Can I?” I asked my words suddenly filled with venom.

 

“Yes, you can. I’m here only for you.” She answered calmly as if I hadn’t just snapped at her. Her composure sent a jolt of guilt through me but the burning of sudden anger overtook it.

 

“I know you think I’m delusional. And I’m sure you haven’t looked into my visit with Travis either.”

 

She looked at me carefully. “Well I tried to but they said I couldn’t have access to any of the tapes.”

 

“So you gave up? Already?” It was still burning in me. “Did you think it would be easy?”

 

“I’m not going to give up on you Sal.” Alex seemed to think through each word she said. “Now what happened that you don’t want to talk about?”

 

The anger was fading into a crashing wave of depression engulfing me. I was tired, no exhausted. The type of exhaustion you get after the longest most stressful days, and yet you know that tiredness won’t lead to any meaningful rest. “Church. I use to go to her church.” my voice was barely a whisper.

 

“And what happened there?”

 

I could taste bile in my mouth as my stomach turned to knots. “Uh… there was a young pastor. He… he took a liking to me. Not in a good way.” I paused again as I built up the courage to continue. “And… and the worse thing was he use to say I was special. That… that I had a destiny to fulfill or some shit. Like I was lucky to have been chosen by him.” I was finally able to look up from my hands, only then noticing the music had stopped. “It went on for years.”

 

Alex’s notepad was long abandoned now. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Sal.”

 

The nausea was still building and I felt as if I might choke on my own stomach. “I don’t feel good.” 

 

I guess she was able to read what I meant as she quickly handed me a trash can. As soon as it was in front of me I pulled my mask up and let it all out. I felt like I was retching for hours until finally there was nothing left. And I was sitting in a therapist office clinging for my life to the small trash can.

 

“Here.” Alex offered me a water bottle and I saw as her eyes landed down to my wrists. “Sal. What happened?”

 

I looked at it myself. It did look bad, a claudiscope of purples and blues, not to mention how swollen it was. “I tripped.”

 

“Did someone do this to you?”

 

“No, no. I just tripped on the old bricks in the library, I landed weird on it.”

 

“Sal you need to go to the infirmary. That could be broken.”

 

I pulled my wrist to my chest protectively. “I really don’t th-”

 

Before I could finish she was at here desk buzzing for Cruz.

 

“Isn’t it early. Oh, why does it smell in here.” He said with a look of disgust.

 

She narrowed her eyes. “Because he threw up and needs to go to the infirmary.” 

 

“For a stomach bug?” He said uncertainly. “I think he’ll live.”

 

“No for his wrist. Or did you not see it could be broken when you cuffed him?” I knew Alex didn’t like Cruz but now she was just not even trying to hide it.

 

“It ain’t my job to check every inmate for some bruises!” He yelled back.

 

“There’s no way you could have missed that when you were cuffing him and it is your job to report injuries!”

 

As all this was happening I was awkwardly sitting in the chair just waiting. I felt like a kid being passed from parent to parent in a nasty divorce. I probably would have found it amusing if I wasn’t so emotionally and physically empty.

 

After a few more sentences hurled back and forth, Cruz motioned for me to stand and I winced with pain as he cuffed my bad wrist. I honestly thought Alex was going to attack him with the daggers she was staring at him. I shot back my own look as I was lead back to the hall.

 

I didn’t know what to think of the appointment as we walked through the halls. I still wasn’t sure why I told her. This was probably a huge mistake. There’s no way to know if she’s involved in this, I mean I don’t think she is but I can’t be certain. Also, I’m well aware that she thinks all this is hallucinations but at least she’s humoring me.

 

“Nurse! I have one here.” Cruz yelled into the strangely empty infirmary. Must be a slow day.

 

I was washed over with relief as Della turned the corner. As she spotted me, she placed her hands on her hips, “Sal Fisher, you better not have gotten in a fight.”

 

I could feel the beginning of a smile form on my cracked lips. “No, Della. Just tripped and hurt my wrist.”

 

“Alright, kid. Let me see.” With that Cruz uncuffed me and moved to stand by the door as I was lead to a bed to sit on. She gently lifted the starchy fabric of my orange sleeve up to my elbow. “Oh, Sally! Why didn’t you come right away? You’re gonna need an X-ray. I’ll get some ice for you.”

 

I just nodded as everything that had happened today finally hit me. Judah, the journal, Alex and now this. This whole day had been an emotional rollercoaster and I was started to feel the cracks in my composure. All I’d been holding in for years had suddenly made a surprise appearance all on the same day.

 

And all I wanted was to curl up in my old bed, to feel that comforting weight of Gizmo on my shoulder as I drifted to sleep. All I wanted was to play in the snow or go swimming in Wendigo Lake, or spent all night stargazing and smoking cigarettes. All I wanted was to tell jokes over the crackle of a walkie talkie. All I wanted was to be a kid again, a stupid, optimistic kid with his whole life in front of him.

 

Now all I had was a date for when it’d all be over. There was no life in front of me now, only death. I wonder if I’ll see them. My family? My friends? Larry? Mom? Will they be there? Would they forgive me? Will I be welcomed home or damned for what I did?

 

Suddenly I couldn’t hold in the tears anymore, and the floodgates had opened with a vengeance. I was alone and I would be alone until the very end. I would die alone in a dark room with a hooded man. My dad wasn’t going to check on me. Gizmo wasn’t going to curl up with me. Ash wasn’t going to snap a photo when I wasn’t looking. Todd wasn’t going to call me with new information. Lisa wasn’t going to make me dinner. And Larry wasn’t going to sing me a sweet melody when the nightmares simply became too much to handle. I felt like I was suffocating as I ripped the mask from my face and let the tears stream down my one working eye.

 

“Okay I hav-” Della stopped as she entered the room. “Oh baby, don’t cry.” She tried to soothe as she walked towards me. 

 

“I… I can’t...I can’t do it.”

 

She placed the ice on the table as she pulled me into a hug. That’s when the sobs really took over, as my body shook I couldn’t help but think if I’d ever be held again. I grabbed desperately, wrapping my fist in her scrubs. I could feel my tears soak the shoulder of her shirt as Della stroked my dirty hair. Quietly she whispered, “Everything’s gonna be okay. Don’t worry. You’re gonna be okay.”

 

I only cried harder knowing for certain that nothing would ever be okay again.


	13. Chapter 13

Each restless night and day had started to blend together. It had been maybe a week since my pathetic breakdown. No, not quite a week, it was only Tuesday. Honestly, It didn’t really matter, I reminded myself as I rolled over on my paper thin mattress. I tried to get comfortable which was nearly impossible especially since my wrist was now in a bulky cast.

 

It had only been a few days but I already hated the thing. Like everything else in my life, it was another painful reminder of my past embarrassments. I thought about how pitifully I had sobbed in the infirmary for hours, and how Della had stayed with me the whole time even after her shift ended. I felt so guilty and so stupid.

 

I just...broke. And now all I felt empty.

 

Since my arm was broken, I couldn’t do work assignment and for some reason, I just stopped doing anything at all. I pretty much laid in this bed with the exclusion of taking the pills, which I only did because they made me. I wonder if this is how Todd feels? I wonder if he even knows what he’s feeling?

 

It should be me who has to suffer, not him. Every person I’ve ever encountered has nothing but suffering to show for it. Maybe continuing this search will only make things worse somehow. I mean I’ve already compromised people like Alex for being truthful with her. Just like Travis said, this place isn’t safe for anyone if someone with them hears me who knows what could happen. I guess it’s better she doesn’t believe me then. I need to stop trying to convince her.

 

I turned back over pulling the fiber blanket up to my face. It was rough on the scarred skin but for some reason, it was still a small comfort. I just let myself enjoy it. I reminded me of sleepovers the gang used to have. In the summer we’d all take sleeping bags and pillows and old blankets out to the treehouse. Then we’d pool whatever money the four of us had and order a feast from a small pizza place down the road. 

 

After we’d eaten all we physically could, we’d spread all we brought with us and make a huge “Nest,” as Larry called it, and sleep in the nice summer warmth. We all laid together in a huge pile, it was the only time I knew I wouldn’t have nightmares.

 

I remember there was one blanket, an old one of Lisa’s comforters, and for some reason, it was my favorite. I’m sure at one point it was a nice blanket with rich red color, but by the time I used it, it had faded badly into an ugly almost vomit orange color.

 

There was even a part of it that had ripped open exposing its fibery intestines, a stark comparison to the smooth cotton making up its skin. With my eyes closed, I could almost convince myself that the coarse prison blanket to my face was actually that one. That I wasn’t sleeping on a government-issued cot but a nest of sleeping bags and pillows on the hard pine of the treehouse floor. That the constant murmur of the prisoners was instead just insects and animals hiding in the treeline. That my friends were sleeping with me just out of reach.

 

I tried to imagine what that Sal would think of me. I know he wouldn’t be proud. I had been so strong then, hopelessly optimistic even. Somehow all the trauma I had been through left me with strength and resolve. I had been mature and honest. Now I was none of those things.

 

I had regressed. I no longer possessed the strength I had in those years. Now I hid and planned for the worse possible outcome. And just to make it worse, if I truly did get to meet my younger self, he would be far too kind to me. That boy would comfort me. That boy would tell to keep fighting for a better future.

 

That boy would forgive me.

 

I deserve none of it. No forgiveness. No sympathy. No optimism. 

 

“Sal Fisher!” My inner monologue was interrupted by Ron. “Get your ass up, kid!”

 

Instead of listening, I rolled away to avoid looking at him. There was no use. I didn’t want to get up, I had nothing to get up for.

 

The metal chair screeched as he dragged it across the concert floors to sit right by the bed. “Seriously Sal? I know you haven’t eaten, hell, I’ve hardly seen you move since you got that cast. You need to get up.”

 

“I’m fine,” I said through gritted teeth, I just wanted him to leave me alone. He knew none of what was happening, he had no right to try and lecture me.

 

He sighed. “Sal, I know you think that you can just give up but I’m telling you, you can’t. I’ve been here a long ass time, so I know a few things. One of which is the vast majority of us are in a constant fight with guilt as well, and I’ve seen men do exactly what you’re doing and it doesn’t end well.” He paused. I knew he was expecting an answer or at least some movement, but instead, I remained quietly facing the cinder block wall. “And I don’t know what’s going on with you and that Judah kid, but I know it ain’t good and he’ll take advantage of you giving up if you let him.”

 

I thought about that for a moment. I really had been trying to keep that whole clusterfuck out of my mind as much as I could but Ron was right. It was a serious problem and I couldn’t ignore it forever. I unconsciously touched my hand to my face. I let myself feel the grooves and divots of the damaged skin. I remembered once asking Larry why he liked it and he had said, “It’s a story. At first glance, it’s sad and painful but then you see that the pain and suffering were overcome by strength and courage. In the end, it’s very hopeful.”

 

I was speechless in response to his shockingly poetic words. That had been one of the things I’d loved the most about him. Every once in a while he’d say something so beautiful and profound all you could do was stand in admiration.

 

I owed it to him to stay strong.

 

I turned onto to my back and noticed Ron was already holding my mask. It looked strange in someone else’s possession. It truly did feel more like an extension of myself than an object. He handed it to me and as I always do I felt relief. I looked in the empty eyes for a moment before strapping it on.

 

“Good. Now get a shower and you’ll feel better.” He patted my shoulder as I sat up. It was then that I thought that Alex wasn’t the only person I put at risk. After all, the ledger was still hidden in our cell and while he didn’t know about it that didn’t mean he couldn’t be blamed for it. 

 

“Thanks, Ron,” I called after him. He waved an arm in response as he left. I tried not to think too hard about anything as I gathered the small bag that held my toiletries and heading down to the showers. 

 

I was hit with a wave of damp smell as I entered what I can only describe as a depressing high school locker room. There was a large laundry basket at one corner of the room overflowing with discarded towels that must have been the source of the mildew smell.

 

My eyes were fixed on the ground as I grabbed a clean towel and moved through the crowded room to an empty locker. It was always awkward to strip down in a room full of other people, at first I had hated it. I was certain everyone was staring at me and I refused to take off my mask until a guard stopped me saying I must take it off to shower. That first time I had just turned around and decided I’d try another day. 

 

It was really difficult for me to muster the courage to leave it with my clothes those first few months, but now it was more of a slight uncomfort then anxiety fueled phobia. I took it off with a sigh and placed it in the lockless locker with my jumpsuit, tee shirt, and plain boxers. 

 

I grabbed the bag and towel and with my hair falling in my face moved to the showers. You learned quickly not to make eye contact in the showers, if you did you were pretty much guaranteed a beating...or worse.

 

As I faced the wall and turned on the water hoping it’d be hot, I unpacked my soaps from the small bag. I couldn’t help but think of all the nice products I use to have, most of which were gifts from Ash. She truly believed in skin care and my face was never better than when she lived in Nockfell.

 

Every once in a while she’d even invite me to stay at her house in the nice area of town and have what she called the “Sal-on.” Really it was just a night of face masks, manicures, and gossip, but whenever we got the chance to do it I Always looked forward to it. I truly wished I could do it again but that was an impossibility that was better not to think about. 

 

I tried to keep my face out of the harsh water, which today was way too hot, as I quickly washed myself. It always seemed to be boiling or freezing, never anything in between. And since the water will only stay on for three minutes you don’t have much time to adjust. 

 

Speaking of, just as I finished washing the shampoo from my hair, the water sputtered and stopped. I sighed thinking of what I’d do for some conditioner. But I reluctantly packed up my belongs, dried myself off and wrapped the towel around myself. In a way, I was lucky, since I was so fucking small I could actually wear the tiny towels we were provided. I could even get my head under the shower heads which were no taller than 5 foot 6 meaning most inmates had to lean down to wash their hair. 

 

I couldn’t help but feel a little better as I walked back to the locker room. Ron was right, and I’d have to thank him, it had been way too long since I showered and being clean was already making the depression fade to the background. Maybe I could still do this, maybe I can make a difference here before…

 

However, that optimism immediately disappeared when I was met with the pile of my clothes, clearly missing one object. I grabbed each piece looking desperately for what I already knew was gone. With the locker now empty, I felt tears forming. It was gone. 

 

My face was gone.

 

I looked around the room for any sign of it, then my eyes caught glimpse of a group of men and in the center was Judah. My blood boiled as I moved zealously through the crowded, I could feel the eyes follow me and hear the silence that fell like a stone over us.

 

I stopped right in front of Judah who was wearing my face on the side of his head, his curly hair was falling from one of the eyes. He wore an amused look on his lips as I glared up at him. “Give it back.”

 

“Oh hello, baby.” He bit his lip as he looked over my scarred tissue but I refused to give in, I stared back as intensely as I could. “It's so good to finally meet you… face to face.”

 

“Give it back,” I repeated.

 

He let out a shrill laughed, it would have been unsettling in any circumstance but now it was chilling. “Well I can’t do that but maybe you can work for it.”

 

I bit down harder as he circled me, he was a shark and I was prey held teasingly in his jaws completely at his will. “How?” I spit out

 

Now completely behind me, he ran his fingers up my back to whip my wet hair off my back, his touch on my skin sent adrenaline rushing through my veins. He leaned down to talk in my ear, I stood as still as I could, “From the back you look just like a girl, maybe one of those stuck up art girls with that hair. I bet you could help me that way, you know, give me some… company.”

 

I felt like coiled like a spring, at any moment the tension could break me. My brain was at a lost. Did I smell church incense? As I swallowed a single tear fell from my eye.

 

He was looking down on me, but I refused to break eye contact. I wouldn’t let him take me that easy. Then sickeningly, he reached out a hand to wipe the tear away from my creased skin, “Don’t cry baby blue.”

 

Suddenly the spring snapped at the name. He could do whatever he wanted to me but he would not call me that. That name was not for him. I saw red and my eyes and throat burnt like the hottest fire as I spit as hard as I could in his face. “I am not your baby.”

 

His face went immediately from the predatory smirk to a look of pure fury. I was frozen as he grabbed me by the face harshly. His large hand grasp on to my cheeks, I could hear my elevated breath hiss through my exposed nose. He pulled me closer to him. “You fucking whore, you just made thi-”

 

“Hey break it up, Inmates! Break it up” A guard ran over to us and pushed Judah off me. I scrambled to my feet from where I fell and I took the opportunity to grab my clothes and pushed through the crowd that formed around us. I passed a group of shocked men as I ran to the bathroom stalls.   

 

I slammed the door behind me and leaned against it, I couldn’t breathe, I was wheezing badly. My whole body shook from head to toe as I let myself cry silently in the privacy of the stall. This is bad, this is bad, this is really  _ bad. _ That horrible thought hit me, I can’t do this. I just barely got away this time, what about the next? What if no one had been there? How would they have found me? Beaten? Naked and bloody on the floor?

 

Would it have worked? Would I have my face back right now? Maybe I should have just gone along with it?

 

No.

 

He can take whatever he wants from me but he will not pervert my memories.  _ Don’t cry, baby blue.  _ How many times had I heard that phrase in my life? How many times had Larry whispered that to me late at night? 

 

I could imagine it now. I was sleeping in his bed, my head was on his chest as I grasped desperately to him hoping to chase off the nightmare. I could hear him hushing me as he stroked my hair in the dark room. Sleepy hands attentively holding me, “It just a nightmare. I’m here now, don’t cry, Baby Blue.”

 

Now the thought of it sent another wave of fear through me.

 

I bet he’d say that to me now if he was here. Then he would beat the shit out of Judah until he couldn’t bother me ever again. I’d let him too. I’d watch happily as blood splattered off his mangled body onto Larry’s fists and boots and clothes. Then, Larry would wipe the sweat from his forehead leaving a small trail of blood on his face. And I’d stand in admiration of the elegance left in the wake of his violent ire. 

 

I sighed, in reality, I knew I wouldn’t. I’d never let Larry experience the horrible feeling of taking another’s life. No matter what the circumstances it never truly leaves you and I’d never let Larry be cursed in that way.

 

I took another shaking breath as I finally used my weak hands to pull on my clothes. Once fully dressed, I stood there looking at the metal door of the stall. I felt a wave of nausea as the truth became clear to me. I would have to face the whole prison completely exposed. 

 

I couldn’t hide any longer as I felt the click of the door unlock, I paused just a second longer before passing through that fateful threshold.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!!  
> Thanks so much for your patience with this latest chapters. I'm trying to get back on my regular update schedule so hopefully one will be up Monday! Also, I just made a Tumblr under bigbootbitch I'd love to talk about gay shit with all of you!!!  
> Cork

As I laid in my bed I tried desperately to think of any other day in the last two years worst than this one. I couldn’t. Nothing compared to this fear and vulnerability I was feeling. I had even begun to start feeling more comfortable without my face before this. The searches felt less invasive, waking in the morning was less jarring, but now I didn’t even have the choice.

 

The entire prison would have to see the ugly truth of what I really was. I could just imagine the rumors, The Sally Face Killer finally unmasked. It wasn’t a quick glance as I changed or ate, now they could stare and study it. That identity of a faceless mass killer was taken from me and now everyone would realize I really was just a scared kid. In that one act, Judah gave everyone the right to harass me.

 

I had to stop wallowing, that wouldn’t get me anywhere. But at the same time what could I even do? I mean I could report him but that would just either make me seem weak or get me in protective custody. Maybe that was best, it was clear he was planning to do something to me.

 

No. I would not be put in the hole, I would not be punished, simply for being in danger. I’d rather suffer and fight than lose the little freedom I have. 

 

Yes, that’s what I needed to do. I needed to fight harder. I grabbed my copy of the Iliad and opened the cover to reveal where I had hollowed it out to hide the journal. I had hated defiling the classic but it was necessary to stay safe. As I pulled the small book out one name caught my eye  _ Patroclus _ . I remember Larry talking of him.

 

_ “He’s the true hero of the story if you ask me.” Larry had said as he took a hit of his bowl. “He dresses in Achilles armor to motivate the greeks as they’re almost defeated since Achilles refuses to help. And it works but he’s killed in the process.” _

 

_ “That’s really horrible.” _

 

_ A cloud of smoke surrounded him, “Yeah, man. Even worse he was his boyfriend.” _

 

_ “What?” _

 

_ “Well, that’s the theory.” Larry hands me the pipe with a wink, “Life long ‘companions’ and when he dies Achilles freaks dude. Murders the person who kills him and drags his corpse around the camp for days.”  _

 

_ “That’s fucked.” _

 

_ “Yeah. But I think I get it.” Larry had said. _

 

I frowned at the memory, I get it now Larry. I’d do anything to stop the pain I felt after I lost you. I opened it up and looked back over the entries I’d read plenty of times to look for anything I missed. One particularly unsettling passage kept my attention.

 

_ The decision has been made. This choice has not come easy to us but it is all we can do now. Afterall what is one child’s life compared to dozens of children’s? We have agreed to this ‘angel’s’ terms though I fear this is no messenger of God. Would God truly have us take the life of an innocent? _

 

_ I guess it doesn’t even matter now if we do not follow the terms we will all be dead in only a few weeks. The colony will end along with many family lines, we simply can not let that happen.  _

 

_ Now we must decide which family will make the ultimate sacrifice. I pray for it to not be me, but if it is I will honor the agreement. I owe it to this colony and to the rest of my children. _

 

_ God save us. _

 

This must have been how it started, part of me was furious. How stupid could you be? Until I remembered I also made a terrible sacrifice in the hope of saving others. Mislead by something I didn’t understand. It was not their fault. This ‘angel’ he speaks of has to be Red Eyes, the thought sent a shiver through my body. 

 

I closed the book, why was this so painful? I longed for that feeling of contentment I had before all of this. I really believed I had a future in front of me. One filled with love and family and acceptance. One where I’d eat take out and watch movies with Larry’s as we complained about our jobs. How could all that be gone now? How could Larry really be gone?

 

I missed him. I missed him so much. I missed those stupid dreams, all I wanted was to see him again. Just once more before they kill me if I could just tell him how sorry I am for what I did. Or how I should have known he wasn't himself. Or that those few years made my whole life worth it.

 

I grabbed the hollowed book, you were my Patroclus. I should have protected you but I was a coward. You are the true hero of this story. 

 

As I went to close it I noticed a piece of paper peeking from behind the leather cover.

 

“Fisher.” I was interrupted as I went to grab it but quickly closed the book. It was Cruz, I didn’t want to deal with him now. He pulled cuffs from his belt, “Hands.”

 

“Why? I have nowhere to go?” I asked.

 

“Dr. Ingram what’s to see you.” 

 

Why does Alex want to see me? “Its Tuesday.”

 

“Come on, Sal. I don’t want to have to fight about it.” He answered in a tone I’d never heard before. Instead of his usual demanding and confident tone, this was more pleading. And did he call me by my first name? The most informal he’d ever been was when he called me ‘Fisher.’

 

Simply out of confusion, I stood and gave him my hands. I kept my head down hoping my overgrown bangs would cover at least some of my mangled face. He carefully cuffed my casted wrist and loosely did the other.

 

As we walked down the hall he didn’t even grip my arm like he usually did. We both seemed uncomfortable as we made our way through the prison. I was hyper-aware of every passing glance. Everyone stared as I was escorted by, I was naked in a crowd of people, everyone judging and laughing. ‘Look at the freak,’ I imagine them say as I cowarded through them.

 

The door was opened and I once again was meet with the familiar office. It was strange how this place seemed almost otherworldly. When everything in your life is so government sterile it becomes unsettling when an environment isn’t. 

 

I kept my head down as Cruz uncuffed me with a sympathetic look. I hated that. Oh, now you feel bad for me since you can see the trauma I’ve experienced? Now that it can’t be ignored you want to seem like a helpful hand? This was the main reason I always wore the mask. Yes, it was partially aesthetic but mostly I hated the faked sympathy.

 

Alex was already sitting in the chair in front of her desk, where she sat when she wanted to be more accessible. Her hair was down today but was pulled to fall over one shoulder, her glasses were perched on her nose and a box of tissues had been set of the table between us. It was obvious she had prepared for this meeting.

 

I didn’t say anything, refusing to be a part of any of this. “Can you tell me what happened?”

 

“Nothing,” I answered.

 

“Sal…”

 

I leaned forward and looked into her eyes, ignoring the urge I had to hide. “I said nothing happened.”

 

She was unfazed and instead just looked back into my eyes for what felt like minutes. Finally, she looked down to a paper in her lap. “I was told that there was an incident in the showers this morning that ended in violence.”

 

I caved and looked down letting my hair shield me once again. How could something so jarring to me be explained so clinical? I know what she was doing by saying it that way, she was simply trying to lessen the emotional load that came with it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“I can keep you safe, Sally, but you have to tell me what happened.”

 

I felt tears sting in my eye again. His words echoed in my head again,  _ Don’t cry, baby blue. _ He barely touched me? Why did I feel so violated? “What? Protective custody?”

 

She pulled her glasses to rest on her head, “That’s a possibility.”

 

“I won’t be punished for nothing,” I responded.

 

“If it meant you were safe would it really matter?” 

 

I rolled my eyes, “Yes it would. You don’t understand how horrible the hole is. I was there for 48 hours once and I nearly went insane.”

 

She sighed. “Alright, let me level with you then. I’m worried about you and I don’t want you to be hurt so please just tell me what happened so I can do something about it.”

 

I kept my head down. I felt guilty of lying to her. I know she was trying to help but she didn't understand. “Can I go back now?” I asked. I wasn’t going to say anything that could lead to protective custody. I’d do whatever Judah said before I’d let that happened.

 

She just stared at me for a while as she thought over what I said. After a few minutes of silence, she hit the buzzer on her desk. The sound sent a wave of relief through me, however, it was quickly followed by the burning nerves I was feeling deep in me. Back to the block where everyone could see me. 

 

“Please be careful.” She begged as Cruz cuffed me. I so badly wanted to stay in this weird void between prison and the real world. I had somehow come to feel safe here, or at least somewhat safe. But I didn’t trust myself here, I had to keep my mouth shut to keep myself safe.

 

Back in the hall, I focused on the cheap tiles trying so hard not to think of my unprotected face. The air felt weird on my skin, I thought.

 

Suddenly Cruz cleared his throat, “Hey...um.” I looked up slightly showing I was listening, “I just want you to know I’ll be looking out for you.”

 

For a moment, I felt anger course through me. He never looked out for me before why would he now? “Why?” I simply choked out.

 

He looked away, “Well… my sister… she-” He trailed off before clearing his throat once again. “Well, no one deserves to be hurt that way.”

 

I felt split in two at the moment, one half of me wanted to roll my eyes and yell at him for how his help was too little too late. But the other half wanted to thank him, he had no reason to help me but he wanted to anyway. I settled on something in between, “I’ve dealt with it before so...”

 

I swear I saw him cringe at that answer, a flicker of pain on his face. We finished the rest of the march in silence. As he left me in my cell he hovered a moment but eventually left.

 

It was getting late and soon I’d have to eat something. I was certainly hungry but I was still feeling nauseous from this morning. It would be the first time everyone saw the true me, the whole block would stare at me as I watched the time click away from the clock.

 

Would Judah try anything? That was a whole other set of fears that sat in my stomach like a rock. Maybe I could just skip dinner too. No, I had to go, if only to keep my strength up. 

 

My eye caught the thick book on the desk across the cell, it was only then that I remember the piece of paper I saw. Carefully I checked to make sure no one was near and moved to open the book. The paper was folded into a rip on the leather.

 

As I unfolded the paper I couldn’t help but notice it was different from the rest of the journal. This was not nearly as old, it was written on a weathered piece of notebook paper. The little blue lines almost completely faded out. Instead of the cursive I had been struggling to read in the rest of the entries, this was written in neat handwriting with a blue pen. 

 

The bottom half was completely missing, seemingly ripped in half at some point. My heart pounded against my ribs as I started to read.

 

_ I have found it. _

_ I have found the vessel, the one who bears our mark. The survivor. I didn’t even have to search for him, one day he simply wandered into my parish. At first, I was not sure, could this boy truly be the rumored one? But now I am convinced he will be the one to hold our master. I have seen the gift he possesses.  He will rise again. _

 

And then it just ended. I read it two or three more times, what did this mean? Who were they speaking of? I flipped the sheet over hoping for any other clue instead a blank page just stared tauntingly back at me. 

 

Who was this man? Was it me they were talking about? How long had they been keeping tabs on me? 

 

No Sal, calm down. It can’t be you, you only moved to Nockfell when you were 14. It’s not you. I tried to calm myself down by once again practicing those little breathing exercises Alex had taught me. I simply couldn’t conspire about all the horrible possibilities right now. 

 

I took one more deep breath before forcing myself to get ready for dinner. I wish I could skip it but I haven’t shown for the last few meals and soon someone would notice I wasn’t eating and the last thing I needed was more attention. But before I could will myself into going I just sat there.

 

My mind was entirely blank, I could feel myself dissociating but I didn’t care. Instead, I enjoyed it. I just let that emptiness take me away, at that moment I didn’t have to think or feel or even exist. No thoughts. No fears. No pain. It was a habit I thought I grew out of but apparently not.

 

I snapped myself out of it but then I had the urge to do something I hadn’t in years. I walked over to the sink and held the cold metal face down in my hands. I shouldn’t. This is a bad idea. The last time I looked in the mirror, truly looked in the mirror, was before any of this. Of course, I had used it to do things like check for breaks in the skin or shave the patchy hair that grew in the less damaged areas of my face. But during that, I was always careful not to look for too long or too closely.

 

For some reason, I couldn’t resist the temptation and quickly turned the mirror over. The first thing that struck me was that I looked… older. There was no more childish chubbiness and my bone structure could be seen under the irregularly ripped and stretched skin. It was a disaster to look at, a tangled, mangled mess of discoloration and raised tissue. 

 

I found myself focusing on the three things I hated most about myself. First I examined that gap in my lips where my teeth could be seen, no matter what emotion I tried to express back to myself it always made me look cynical. A sly smile on a grinning skull. Speaking of a skull I moved my critical eye to my nose as I became hyper-aware of the loud air that wheezed out of my exposed nose. The tip of my nose was one of the first things to go in the attack I had been told. I remember once Larry saying he didn’t mind my nose because he had enough for both of us. Lastly, my unmoving glass eye stared into me. Part of the lid had been damaged making it look like my eye wasn’t fulling in the socket. I moved my good eye around as I witnessed the uncanny valley that set in when only one moved. It was pure wreckage, a horrific hodgepodge of colors and textures. 

 

How was I going to face them like this?

 

I stopped the thought. I needed to show strength now, I needed to seem confident and unbothered by the situation. It was my only hope for survival now. And I wasn’t going to stall any longer. I placed the mirror back and walked to the door with my head up. As I walked I tried to remember all the kind things larry had said about my face. A piece of art. A testament to survival. Beautiful. Expressive. Unique. I was continuing my mental list as I grabbed a tray and parted the crowd of stares to my usual spot.

 

I didn’t believe any of the things I was telling myself but I know Larry had meant those things when he said them. The stagnant air on my face reminded me of his long calloused, and most likely painted covered, fingers following the lines on my face. “I’m following the streams,” He had said when I asked about it once.

 

I swallowed another tasteless bite as I noticed movement in front of me, but the only thing I noticed was hollowed eyes on white and pink. My face. I looked up to see Judah, he had my face strapped to his belt to fall to the side of his hip. I forced an emotionless expression as I took another bite. Outside, I may have appeared calm but internally, I was filled with fury. I understood the message he was trying to send as well as the implications it held. 

 

I own the Sally Face Killer.

 

It wasn’t me he was saying it to or his little group but the whole prison. As I struggled to chew and swallow I let myself indulge that violent fantasy again. Larry was always ready to kick Travis’ ass for me and he was harmless for the most part. But Judah? I knew it was unhealthy but I can only imagine the hell he’d raise.

 

The group drew closer and for a moment I honestly thought they may not be moving towards me, of course, I was mistaken. As the group took seats at my empty table, Judah slid in right next to me. “You're looking good, baby.”

 

I didn’t respond and instead looked to the men around me. They were a strange group, most groups here were formed on some common ground, be it race or religion or age. There were even a few that simply did the same thing during yard time. But this group was much more diverse. Most were younger mid to late twenties and thirties, however, there was a good amount of outliers amongst them.

 

“You know, Sally when you play hard to get I just want you more.”

 

I met the eyes of one man at the end of the table, I knew him. Micheal, maybe? He always checked out baseball books. His brown eyes shone from his dark skin with a pleading look. Maybe that look was why I recognized him, I remember when he first got here his cellmate was a total violent dickhole. Every week he’d hand me his last book with shaky hands and a new bruise. As well as that pleading look.

 

“...I used to go to the library after school everyday and research you. I needed more inf…” 

 

It then dawned on me why this group was unusual. The only thing they had in common was being outcasts, none of them had anyone else and simply needed the protection that came with having a gang. I kept glaring at Micheal, he looked… guilty. I observed the faces of the others, most were indifferent but there were a few others who looked unsettled by all of this. Good, they should. I looked at each of them in the eye as I ignored whatever Judah was ranting about. I needed those men to know they were just as bad for going along with it.

 

“...and then I started finding people you knew. Which is how I learned of the true nature of yours and Larry’s relationship.”

 

The named pulled me from my thoughts and I felt the look of disinterest crack from my face. It moved like a shot through me, his name spoken into existence again was soul crushing. I pulled myself together and resumed my facade.

 

But I could see the smirk on his face. “I guess that’s my one question, Sally?” I stayed silent but he still paused. “You admit to killing everyone in the apartments, right?”

 

I kept quiet. After a few moments he moved my hair out of my face, the touch made me sick.

 

“Answer me.”

 

It was a demand and I knew it, “Y..yes.”

 

“Oh, he speaks,” He looked around to his group of misfit assholes smiling. “So why won’t you admit to the murder of Larry Johnson?”

 

I grabbed tightly to the fork in my hand. How dare he? He doesn’t deserve to have his curiosity satiated.

 

“What was it? A lover’s quarrel? An accident? Or did you murder him out of cold blood like the others?” I tried to stay calm but all I could think of was if I could get to his jugular with the plastic fork in my hand. “Where’s the body baby?”

 

I could feel a stinging in my throat. The body. The body. It kept echoing in my head. I honestly don’t remember. I remember the rain, the note. I remember struggling to make my shaking hands cooperate as I pulled the paper from the bag. That detail always stuck with me in a horrible way.  He had planned enough to not just write the note but then put it in a bag to keep it dry. At that moment he felt the need to protect what he needed to say to me, but then why didn't he come to me with it?

 

Next, I remember I was in the treehouse he was on the ground The same floor we’d sleep on under the stars. The same floor we’d sit on as we hotboxed the small room. Hell, the same floor we use to fuck on when Lisa was home. I remember pale skin as I tried to pull him on my lap, I knew he was gone then. I couldn’t lift him, he was dead weight. Skin cold and clammy as I held his face. Don’t leave me, please. Larry, please stay with me, we can leave Nockfell now and never come back just please stay with me. I had begged as I stocked his hair. I had held him in my arms refusing to let go. I remember singing a song he often sang me when I couldn't sleep. But then there was just darkness and an empty room except for a liquor bottle. Jack Daniels, his dad’s favorite.

 

I heard Judah going on but I was gone. Empty. Lonely.

 

“Hey, Sal? Sally, kid, you hear me?” I blinked and saw Ron in front of me and nodded. “Great come on.” He grabbed my arm and helped me up.

 

Judah gave another sly smile, “Oh I didn’t know you had already been claimed.”

 

“Fuck off, you little shit,” he called back as he led me back to the cell.

 

I was gone again, trying so hard to not feel anything. No bad memories. No death. No trauma. Just nothing.

 

He sat me in the chair at the desk as he paced the cell. “When are you going to start taking this seriously? You need to stand up to him, you can’t just keep ignoring him he’s not a fucking schoolyard bully he’s a predator. Sal, are you listening?”

 

“Yeah.” It came out like a dream, a puppet obeying the laws of social norms. A response to a question and nothing more.

 

“Okay. Okay, I ‘m gonna pull some strings get you back in the library, okay? Will that help? I mean it'd have to right? At least you’ll have less interaction…”

 

He continued rambling but I wasn’t listening, instead, I spent my energy staring at the Iliad. He had done a painting once, a man held a skull in his hands, but not in fear or curiosity but with love. Like one would hold a newborn and blurred in the background was that iconic helmet that was photographed on the front of the book. Larry had named it ‘The Greatest Achaean.’

 

I hope I can see you again soon.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Just wanted to give a warning for violence on this chapter. Also, I just got a Tumblr, bigbootbitch. Check it out and let me know what you think of this chapter!

For just a second, I let myself enjoy the warm air on my face. When was the last time it even saw sunlight? Months maybe? To be honest, I wasn’t really sure how much time had passed recently, all I knew was I was in survival mode. Every moment I had had been focused on my safety since that day but today I decided to forget about it. 

 

It was warm out and for once I didn’t hide under the shelter with a book during my yard time. Something in the spring air made me want to be in the sun. My head was full of memories of past years. I had always been one to feel more comfortable under the heavy clothes of cold weather, but I enjoyed that first day of the midwestern spring when the sun finally warmed my cold skin. It was always one of my favorites days of the year.

 

And today was that day. The sun shined brightly over the crushed grass of the fenced yard. Everyone seemed to be in a better mood, people played basketball and lifted weights and some, such as myself, were on the beat up track. Calling it a track was pretty generous since it was really just a path beaten into the grass in an irregular circle.

 

That’s where I stood, looking awkwardly at the small path as others jogged by. I had never been one to enjoy running, mostly because the prosthetic made my breathing even more labored than it usually was, but today I had the sudden urge to run. I wasn’t sure if that feeling was an instinctual way to release the adrenaline that had been coursing through me or a weird need to feel some kind of pain. 

 

I decided it didn’t matter as I took off running. I let my heels dig into the dirt as I pumped my arms with the almost warm air blowing against my face. As I ran somewhere deep in me ached for laugher. 

 

_ “Last one there has to pay!” Larry yelled as he sprinted to the corner store to get more cigarettes. _

 

_ I took off as fast as he could, “Fuck you!” I yelled. Truthfully I should have known better he did this every time we went to the trashy convenience store. It was alright though, I always lost and he always paid anyway. _

 

I continued to sprint around the track, I needed to. I let everything from the past days fuel me. I didn’t care about Judah or the cult or my pending execution. All I could think of was running, one foot after the other. My lungs started to ache and the air that exhaled through my partial nose seemed more like a shriek than its usual hiss.

 

However, I ignored it anyway and kept moving. The pollen of early spring tickled my nose and if I closed my eyes for a moment I could almost imagine how it would feel to be free. If none of these horrible things had happened. I bet I’d be going to the lake with Ash or getting dinner with Larry or maybe Todd would have woke me up early this morning with some new information. I liked to think that instead of being here I would have left Nockfell but I know I wouldn’t.

 

Slowly my legs couldn’t take it anymore and I came to a stop. Doubled over, I tried desperately to catch my breath to no avail. Even in my daydreams, I couldn’t imagine myself running from this place, it felt almost like fate that I ended up here. A cruel gruesome fate. Or maybe that was just my own conscious looking for a way to lessen the guilt. It struck me then that it didn’t matter, I was stuck here in my worst nightmare either way.

 

As I lethargically walked back to the shelter on numb legs I noticed the sound of someone approaching from behind me. I instantly stiffened and prepared for an attack, I knew it was paranoid but right now I felt like that psychosis was beneficial to me. I needed to be ready at any moment no matter where I was. 

 

The pounding of steps against solid ground grew slower as they neared me, I clenched my fist ready to throw a punch and run before anything else could happen. “Sal! Sal fisher!”

 

I turned and saw the man from Judah’s group following behind me. I looked around and noticed the guard towers, good someone would see him. “Please leave me alone.”

 

“I need to talk to you.”

 

I picked up my pace as I started to jog once again but my body was exhausted and Michael quickly caught up to me. He grabbed my shoulder and I immediately swatted his hand away, “Don’t fucking touch me!”

 

His hands were up instantly, “Sorry, sorry. I just want to talk.”

 

I had stopped running. “About what,” I answered dismissively.

 

He continued to keep my pace which just reminded me how easy of a target I was. “I… I wanted to explain myself.”

 

I huffed at him as we continued on the path now walking.

 

“I know but hear me out, man.” He pulled a picture from his pocket and handed it to me. It was obviously him and a young boy at a baseball game, the boy clung a notebook against his chest. “That’s my boy. I know it doesn’t matter but I owe it to him to get out of here safely.”

 

I held the picture in my hands and for some reason, I was angry as I looked at the child. How old was he? 10 maybe 11? I remember how absent my father was at that time, how hard it was. In a way, he was in his own prison. As I continued to look at it that anger became jealousy for the boy. At least now I understood his obsession with the baseball books, it was a way to connect with his kid even if he couldn’t be there.

 

Michael continued, “He’s smart, like crazy smart. He keeps records of every player in that little notebook marking each strike and hit and out.” He was smiling now, “I just like watching but he works equations for every player.”

 

I thought again about how Todd had created a complex algorithm to make sure we all were in the same lunch period every year. “I knew someone like that.”

 

“I just need to survive this but I need you to know I think all this is wrong and I’m sorry.” I handed him back the picture and he looked down at it sadly before returning it to his pocket. “I need to be there for him and his mom.”

 

We were silent for a moment as the photo in my own pocket seemed to weigh me down. What would I do if I had people waiting for me on the outside? What would I do if Larry would be there at the prison gates when I served my sentence?  I’d do anything to make it to that day as quickly as possible. 

 

I sighed, “I understand.” It occurred to me that everyone here was in survival mode, no one here was their best selves. I certainly wasn’t.

 

He held out his hand for me to shake and I took it in my own, “I’ll do anything I can to help, man.”

 

I just nodded a small thanks before he took off jogging again. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to think about everything that had been happening recently. Did it seem as if without the mask people were maybe kinder? Or they just felt guilty about everything. It was probably that one.

 

As we all walked back in a pack to the cells I kept my eye out for Judah, it was easy to be caught off guard in a crowd like this. As I scanned the ocean of orange and white clothes my eyes landed on a face. My face. Another dose of anger coursed through me but he was in front of me, safer that way.

 

A hand clamped hard on my shoulder and instinctively I jabbed my elbow back with as much force as I could, “Woah! Careful kid!”

 

I looked up to see Ron next to me, “Oh. Sorry.”

 

“Ha, it's fine you missed anyway.” It was obvious to me what he was doing. It seemed that anytime I found myself alone or lost in a crowd, Ron would show up. “You ready to be back in the Library?”

 

“Uh...yeah.” I really didn’t care much about it but I knew he had made it possible for me to go back before having my cast removed. I was appreciative of his help but at the same time, it made me feel like a child needing my parent to help me out of a mess I made myself.

 

“Good. You need some time away from this and I know you like the library.” I gave him a half smile as we were marched back to our blocks.

 

***

 

“Alright, let me know when you're ready.” Cruz dismissed as I made my way deeper into the bowels of the stone-lined Library. I stopped at the desk to grab a few things as well as the hand made map I’d been marking anything out of place on. It looked like the work of a madman, marks seemingly at random, shelves and windows and book titles making landmarks for the various things I saw. Some had checks next to them, places I had already investigated. I was lucky no one found it while I was gone.

 

There was only one other person that worked the library and he was an older guy who really just did the bare minimum so I wasn't too surprised it hadn’t been discovered. Cruz had sat in a chair and was drinking a coffee he had prepared, we both knew it was against the rules but he had become much more relaxed since our little talk. I rolled my eye at the thought. He also seemed to keep popping up when I was in situations that could turn south.

 

I decided to take advantage of his new attitude and check some of my marked places. I grabbed the cart and pushed the loud metal through the narrow aisles. The harsh slap of the worn wheels against the old brick made my heart race, for some reason the sound gave me the urge to run. I tried to ignore the anxiety as I moved from spot to spot to see if anything changed. 

 

I found another loose brick but there was no space under it and nothing unusual about it. Aggravated, I moved on to my next location, grabbing the books I needed quickly as I moved through. Next, I moved through to a small area of old wood shelves much older than the cheap ones throughout the rest of the library. I had checked them out before but never found anything.

 

Before truly searching it I doubled checked to make sure I heard nothing from Cruz, it was silent. I looked at the books and pulled them out one by one as I flipped through the pages. I moved as fast as could listening for any movement. I was anxious as I stack each searched book in the cart. I picked up another book but as I went to close it a piece of paper floated slowly to the ground.

 

Like a feather falling from a tree, I watched it sway back and forth on the air until landing with text up. I looked at the faded notebook lines and old blue pen, the neat handwriting stared at me. The other half of the letter.

 

I placed the book on the cart, keeping my eyes on the paper on the floor as if it may attack. I don’t know why I felt so unsettled by the letter but I did. I leaned over to grab it as felt the thin paper in my hands.

 

_ I am so humbled to be able to help bring about the Plague of Shadows. I can not believe we will finally see our master and the world we have longed for all this time. I am ready to minister this child to prepare him for his role in all of this. He is a special child and I will make sure he is treated as such. _

 

_ Brother Maxwell _

_ Grace Bible Chapel _

 

Brother Maxwell? Grace Bible? Maxwell. Maxwell. Max? At my mom’s church? It was him, wasn’t it? He was a part of all of this.

 

_ “Well, who do we have here?” _ I almost turned to hear the voice I knew wasn’t there, a young man maybe early thirties looked down on me. Instead of answering I looked around the old brick of the church thinking of the Sunday mornings I came here with my mom.  _ What’s your name? I’m Max.” _

 

_ “My name’s Sal.”  _ As I answered a smile erupted through his features, I remember the smell of musty bibles and church incense burn my nose.

 

_ “Would you like to help me?”  _ His smile was friendly and relaxed, I wasn’t sure why I had come here but I was happy to have a task. I had nodded enthusiastically as he leads me through the church.

 

They did this. They did everything. Was every moment of my life orchestrated by them? I thought back to those words he used to say to me, ‘you’re so special,’ ‘you have such an important future.’

 

The paper was now a small crumpled ball in my good hand as I stood frozen in the aisle. How could I not figure it out? It was so obvious now, maybe I always had known and simply couldn’t admit it. The anger that had become a familiar friend took over as I kicked the cart the ground with the loud crash echoing through the stone room. I somehow ended in a ball sitting on the floor, thinking I have to tell Larry.

 

I cried, why was that still my instinct? Of course, he was gone, they had taken everything from me, he was just more collateral damage to control me. I bet if he never met me he’d still be alive, just like the rest. I was responsible for his death. It was me who killed Larry Johnson just as I killed everyone else.

 

I held my knees to my chest, the old brick was cold under me as I quietly sobbed. All I wanted was my fucking face, I wanted to feel its weight in my hands as I let the tears fall. Did they plan that too? Was Judah part of this? Another distraction to keep me from staying too focused? Was he here to ‘minister’ to me as well? Was he preparing me for my role as well?

 

The terror paralyzed me, why was I still here? Maybe I should finish this, take those pills I’d been hoarded, that should be enough to do the job. Why should I give them the satisfaction of killing me? If they wanted to kill me that probably means I should do anything to avoid their terms.

 

No. I can’t yet. There’s more to do here. I tried to will myself to stand but I couldn’t, instead, I closed my eyes and rested my head on my knees. I found that old song Larry use to sing stuck in my head, it was from an unlikely musical, Jesus Christ Superstar. I had asked once why he knew it and he said it was his mom’s favorite show and she used to sing it as a lullaby. I repeat some of the lyrics quietly to myself. “Everything’s alright, yes everything’s fine…”

 

I let myself imagine I was in his warm room, it had felt more like my home than my own room did at that time. I tried not to think of the cold brick and stone that surrounded me. I imagined this was just a nightmare, soon I’d wake up and I’d be there with him, he’d ask if I was okay. I’d smile and cuddle up to him and forget this whole dream by the next morning.

 

“...close your eyes, close your eyes and relax…” I hated how my shaking voice sounded, it wasn’t calming in the slightest. Rather, it was depressing, a poor wretch begging for death to escape the pain. I stopped trying and instead just stared at the bricks blankly.

 

I don’t know how long I was there before I hear footsteps, “Sal? Where are you?” I didn’t answer as I sat amongst the books and overturned cart. Eventually, he found me, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

 

“No.”

 

Cruz looked at the pile of opened books around me and I knew he saw the soaked knees of my pant legs. His eyebrows were clenched together in a horrible look of pity, “Come on, let’s go back.”

 

“But...but I need to deliver the books and…”

 

“They make it another day without them.” He held his hand out to help me to my feet, I grabbed it cautiously as he pulled me up. 

 

“What about…” I looked around at the mess.

 

He patted me on the back, “I’ll deal with it. Do you wanna see the doc?”

 

“No…”

 

“Okay, I’ll bring you back then.” I followed slowly as he led us back through the towering selves, they loomed over me as they seemed ready to strike. I again felt the need to have my mask, to hide in its safety once again. As the tears dried awkwardly in my puffy eyes I felt cold and thirsty, I once more craved the feeling of a fresh hot chocolate.

 

I guessed it was time for lunch as I somehow ended up sitting with a metal tray in front of me. How long had been sitting in that library? Time seemed to slip from me easily recently as if I never had quite a firm grip on it. How long had it been since the anniversary? What day was it? What month was it? 

 

I had no idea. Time didn’t really exist here, every day passed in a blur until those blurs became weeks and months and years. Yet somehow each day here felt like a year, minutes passed by like days. Before the anniversary it hadn’t been this bad, something had changed in me then. No, it wasn’t the anniversary it was when the dreams ended.

 

At first, seeing him again killed me, I’d do everything I could to stay up. I had hoped for the nightmares that used to plague me anything to avoid remembering but then when they stopped, I was lost. In a way, it felt like losing him all over again. During that time something shifted and I’d look forward to it, knowing each night I could see him for just a moment was a relief. It felt like the old days, I just had to get through the tough day before I could be safe again.

 

And then it was gone. That little escape was taken from me, the most important person to me was taken from me once again. Each night I’d hope for a dream, I tried to think of the treehouse, meditate on the memories we had there but it never happened again.

 

I thought again of the photo in my pocket, I always carried it with me. It was Larry, in the treehouse looking down at a sketchbook in his lap, he balanced a cigarette in his mouth and the sun streamed through his hair. I didn’t need to look at it to see it perfectly in my mind I had to have spent hours staring at it. Memorizing every little detail I could.

 

I stared at my untouched tray as I decided I’d look through the dream journal again in hopes I’d missed something on the hundreds of times I’d re-read it. Just as I was about to get up, Ron slide into the seat next to me, he looked panicked, “Sal what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in the library? What happened? Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” I said slowly confused by his frantic manner.

 

“Why aren’t you in the library? They assured me you’d be able to go back?” He grabbed my arm and looked in my eye with an intensity I hadn’t seen in him before. “Was it Judah? Did he do something? I’ll kill the brat!”

 

“I said I’m fine!” I yelled at him something in me snapping. He just stared at me shocked, “I can fucking handle myself I don’t know why you’ve been doing this but you owe nothing to me! I’m not your friend, I’m...I’m not your son. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

 

The look of confused flashed for a moment to hurt and I felt a blush on my face as a table nearby chuckled. I didn’t know why I had said that he had started to get up but before leaving he bent down, “Good luck, kid,” 

 

The words were laced with venom, “Ron-”

 

He was already walking up the stairs to our cell and I went to follow, but of course, before I could I was blocked. Judah stood in front of me with a grin. “Seems you lost your only friend, Sally Face?”

 

I tried to step by him, he only moved to block me. “Get out of my way.”

 

I could feel the eyes of every man on us, I could tell he was aware of the attention as he grabbed my mask from its place on his hip. “Now that you lost the little protection you had…” He held it out to me, I wanted so badly to just reach out and grab it. Though as I looked at it in his hands I knew he was not being genuine. 

 

“What do you want?” I asked hoping he’d just get out of my way so I could apologize to Ron.

 

Another smile stretched his face, “What I’ve always wanted, baby.”

 

I felt the hatred course through me once again. “I’ve already said no, now let me through.”

 

“Not that easily, Sally.” He put a hand to my chest stopping me from trying to push through. I despised the weight of his touch on me which only brought back more unpleasant memories. “I’m very good at getting what I wanted.”

 

“I’m not going to be your bitch,” I spit back through clenched teeth.

 

“Maybe not today,” Judah’s smile only antagonized the rage in me, how could someone be so repulsive and arrogant? “But I have a way of wearing people down.” With that, he moved to the side to let me through.

 

I stepped forward relieved to be moving on from another precarious situation as the crowd broke up. But before I even had the chance to relax the tension in my shoulders I felt a firm hand on my ass. I heard Judah chuckle as the rage exploded in me, I didn’t even think as I turned back around. I swear for a split second fear struck behind his eyes before he quickly recovered, “Don’t be lik-”

 

I didn’t let him finish as I release a punch straight for his open jaw. I did exactly as Larry had taught me.

 

_ “No. You’re throwing your whole weight at me from your arm, you’re super off balance, man.” _

 

_ I stood there confused, “Well how am I supposed to do it?” _

 

_ “You have to twist your hips, start all the way in your legs, then you’ll stay balanced and throw harder. And… since you’re so tiny you’ll need all the help you can get,” He said with his classic toothy smile. _

 

_ I rolled my eye, “When am I ever gonna punch anyone anyway?” _

 

_ He stood back in front of me with the pillow he was using as a target, “I know you think Travis is harmless but I’m not so convinced. Plus good self-defense, you never know, Sal. Now try again.” _

 

_ I tried again this time taking his advice, he smiled at me. “Yes! That’s it, Sally!” _

 

I saw Judah on the floor and for the first time in awhile, I felt hope. He started to get up but I decided to chase that feeling, I kicked him in the stomach. He coughed and I felt powerful, I thought again of my brutal daydream of Larry beating him. I kicked him again noticing my face laying on the floor, a silent witness to my momentary hysteria.

 

Everyone stood silent as I got on top of him and punched repeatedly. Each blow felt empowering as the pain surged up my arm. Until I switched hands using the cast to my advantage, the hard surface made a horrid noise with each bash. I watched as the white surface was dyed a sickening red.

 

It didn’t stop the fury in me, I felt his warm blood on me and I didn’t care. I grasped his hair and slammed his hand in the concrete floor with an offensive sound. I wondered if I killed him. I wondered if I cared. I didn’t. 

 

Before I got the chance to slam him again, I was hit in the back of my ribs with a nightstick. My breath left me as I hit the floor. Another blow hit me and I became aware for the first time that everyone was on the floor, hands on their heads. The guard beating me was in SWAT gear, guns were trained on me, I wondered why they hadn’t shot.

 

I was cuffed on the ground and pulled from the floor, my wrist ached and I wondered if I broke it again. It was then that I got a good look at Judah, he was unconscious, face bloody and swollen. I realized then that I had the attention of the whole prison, everyone gawked from their spots on the floor. 

 

“I won’t be anyone’s bitch!” I screamed over the commotion.

 

“Shut up,” The guard mumbled.

 

And just before I was pulled from the room I got a glimpse of Ron, I couldn’t tell from there if he was wearing a grin or a scold but I knew he still had my back. I smiled at him before I was dragged from my block.


	16. Chapter 16

"What the fuck were you thinking?” Cruz yelled as a nurse worked on stitching the cuts on my fist. For once I was relieved Della wasn’t working, I didn’t need to be lectured by anyone else today.

 

I knew exactly what I did and I didn’t feel bad about it, actually I felt good. For the first time in a while I felt a sliver of happiness, I had stood up for myself and left a message. Some of the harassment would be over now. In my everyday life, I was rarely violent, in fact, I often choose to specifically be nonviolent, but today it was so satisfying. That first punch that knocked him to the ground was exhilarating, a strength I didn't know I possessed, a person I didn’t know I could be. 

 

I wonder if Larry would be proud or disappointed. I think he’d be proud.

 

“Stop smiling, Sal,” I hadn't noticed I was. “This is serious you could have killed him.”

 

“Wish I would have,” I deadpanned as I watched the nurse working on my hand stiffen.

 

Cruz stopped his pacing to give me a disapproving look. “Really? Do you want another trial? Another murder on your hands? Haven’t you done enough harm already?”

 

I clenched my fist and the nurse pulled away. “Please sit still,” He pleaded his voice shaking. He was new, probably younger than me and a tinge of guilt went through me at the idea of scaring him. 

 

I relaxed my hand, “Sorry.” I looked back to Cruz, “You knew what he was planning, hurting him was nothing like the others. I didn’t have a choic-” I froze as the familiar words left my lips

 

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” He said more to himself than to me. “You’re no different from the others. Once a murderer always a murderer.”

 

“He was going to rape me! Look at me, he would have killed me if I had let him!” The nurse flinched again as I yelled.

 

Cruz moved close to me, hand on his baton. “You need to calm down, inmate.” He seemed to spit the last word in my face, making sure to remind me of his primary objective. The real truth of our relationship. Prisoner and guard. Those very few days of kindness were gone.

 

I looked him in the eye, something I rarely did to anyone especially since I lost my face. “I’m not going to be a victim again.”

 

The look in his eye was one of pity, “When he’s finished I’m bringing you to the hole until they decide what to do with you.”

 

I kept my eyes on him and gave an understanding nod. Truthfully, I was expecting it, but I didn't expect that high from the adrenaline to so quickly disappear as I tried to prepare myself. You never think It'll be as horrible as it truly is but not seeing the light of day for 23 hours at a time with minimal human interaction is honest torture.

 

We were both silent after that, each consumed in our thoughts. I kept wondering if I truly was fine with the fact I almost beat someone to death. Yes technically it was self-defense but I knew I went far beyond self-defense. I had continued not because I snapped or had to, I continued because I liked how it felt. 

 

The first time I had been violent in my whole life was that stormy night and it had been the worst experience of my life. I had been scared, the feeling of the knife slicing through flesh had nauseated me and the blood seemed to burn my skin as it splattered back on me. I remembered it sticking to my hands, the knife slipping in my grasp spilling my own blood with theirs.

 

However today was almost the opposite, my knuckles to flesh and bone were intoxicating and the blood felt more like the warm spray of a shower. As the red spread up my arms to the pristine surface of the cast it had been purifying. A baptism of gore, I was disgusted with myself as the memory comforted me.

 

I tried to convince myself it wasn’t the act that comforted me by instead the new sense of safety that came with it but I knew it was a lie. I had indulged in the violence simply for pleasure.  I could have walked away after the first punch but I made the choice to dive further into that rabbit hole. 

 

The nurse had finished with my stitches and moved onto to recasting my arm which needed to be reset after I had basically used it as a club. I was surprised they even let me get another hard cast after I used it as a weapon. Then a horrible thought crossed my mind. 

 

What if I’m in solitary until it's healed? What if I’m kept from gen pop until they no longer think I can use my injury to commit violence? How long would that be?

 

I remembered once Larry actually fell partially out of the treehouse which resulted in a broken arm. Ash had been pissed he got a black cast since she couldn’t draw on it as easily. He had it for six weeks. I stared blankly at the sterile walls of the infirmary. What would six weeks be like in the hole? 

 

I suddenly had the urge to make conversation, “How...how old are you?”

 

The nurse looked at me suspiciously. “I’m 22.”

 

“You know I’m not going to hurt you.” It only seemed to make him more nervous as he wrapped my arm cautiously as if one small move and I’d snap on him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

I could see him shake as he gave me a dismissive smile.

 

The thought of this being the last conversation in six weeks was far too present on my mind. “My name’s Sal, by the way, I have pills I take so you’ll probably see me a lot around here...I... I don't mean to get on the wrong foot with you it's just been a really bad day…” I could tell I was rambling in my desperation for some meaningful human contact.

 

He was quiet for a second, “I know who you are.”

 

“Oh.” This time I let the conversation end. I understood what he was implying, I understood why he was afraid of me. I understood why he didn’t wish to make small talk with me. 22. Almost three years younger than me.

 

Same age as Ash’s brother. I wonder if he knew Ben, I wonder if he met Ash if he saw pictures of me on her wall. Or saw me in passing as we moved past Ben’s spot with his friends by the TV as we walked to her room. She’d scuff at his annoying friends, complain about how they were idiots and other trivial sibling stuff.

 

I didn’t know what to say, I wanted to explain myself or apologize but I knew neither would do me any good. So instead I sat patiently, it made me a little sad that I couldn’t explain myself to this man but it was much better than the alternative. 

 

At least he wasn’t a fan.

 

His fear of me, his hate for me was rational, honestly, it was a bit of a relief. It grounded me back in what I had done, today violence was a necessity I had perverted for my own satisfaction but the truth was all violence would ever leave me with was well-placed guilt and an upset stomach.

 

“There. I’m finished.” He said as he immediately started cleaning his supplies and the bloody gauze that was soaked with Judah’s and my own blood. 

 

“Thank you. Will you tell Della I’m sorry when you see her?” I said as I was cuffed and moved to the hallway before he could give me an answer.

 

Cruz held tightly to my arm as we made the ominous trek to a part of the prison I rarely saw. My feet felt heavy as I walked, each step a conscious effort, my heart pounded and the cuffs felt much more restrictive than they usually did. I was petrified.  I wondered if this was how I would feel as I was lead to the execution chamber.

 

My whole life was this walk, hoping so desperately the barren hall will end. That a metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel will appear but instead just more hallway. I hope fruitlessly for something to come of this tortuous journey but I already know what will be at the end of this tunnel. 

 

A wall. 

 

A door. 

 

A chair.

 

But this one ended with a guard checkpoint. “Inmate name and number?” The guard asked uninterested, I hadn’t seen him before. Cruz elbowed me in the back.

 

I sighed. “Fisher, Sal. 081486.”

 

He nodded and buzzed the door for us. The thick steel doors were threatening as they towered over me. I felt nauseous again, how long would it be before I even saw this hall again? How long would it be before I showered again? I tried to remember how many days in a row they could keep me, 15? 20? I couldn’t remember for certain.

 

My thoughts were running so fast I didn’t notice we were stopping. A door stood in front of me and I felt lightheaded, I looked back to Cruz. He looked away as if he was the guilty one, I jumped at the buzz of the lock sounded. He pulled it open and slowly revealed the small room.

 

Every instinct in me was screaming to run, to do anything to stay out of that room. But I stepped right in any way, I was frozen as the thick door shut sealing me in. As Cruz uncuffed me through the slot he quietly said, “Don’t be stupid, Sal.”

 

And just like that, I was alone. Immediately the claustrophobia set it, I felt like I was crawling the walls. The air was stagnant and stale it seemed to stick in my lungs as I pushed each breath through them forcefully. This was a bad start and I knew it.

 

I stopped gaping at the door and looked around the cell. It was smaller than a parking spot, an empty bed, a toilet, and a sink. Nothing else except an expanse of a concrete floor and cement bricks, I sat on the cold ground.

 

For some reason the bed unsettled me, laying there in this small space would be like laying in a coffin. It would be fitting really, tucked away safely from society, out of sight out of mind. I pulled my knees to my chest and just sat there in a ball as the hours slowly ticked by.

 

My whole body felt numb, my legs asleep from the hard concrete. It reminded of the early mornings Larry and I use to spend sitting in front of our lockers before school. We would always get there ungodly early after I had given up on sleeping, then we’d just sit there. Sometimes we talked, or frantically did homework, or share a pair of earbuds as we listened to music. Larry always kept a box of pop tarts in his locker on the off chance I might actually be hungry, we was always worried about my eating habits. 

 

The cold of the lockers and tiled floor was soothing then like a fan on a hot day, but the concrete now seemed to chill to my bones. I shivered swearing it was colder here than anywhere else in the prison. I wondered if that was intentional.

 

I realized everything was intentional on the third day. The bed wasn’t empty because I just got there, it was empty because they took the mattress during the day. Leaving no comfortable place to sit and no possible way to sleep away the time. The lights never went off and there was never a blanket or pillow provided. All I had was my jumpsuit, a tee, and boxers, leaving me shivering under the fluorescent each night.

 

Food came twice a day thrown through the slot in styrofoam containers that were not collected daily, leaving a nasty smell and bugs if you left it uneaten. I quickly noticed I was given no pills resulting in some terrible withdraw. My head pounded and my body ached, standing made me dizzy and I often saw stars. 

 

Vomiting was also common for me. That was by far the most miserable since I didn’t have a toothbrush, it’d simple wash my vile mouth with water from the one plastic cup I was aloud but the taste never truly left. And the cup only made me worry about my eye, it obviously wasn’t sterile and the socket was quick to catch infection forcing me to keep it out until it could be properly cleaned.

 

However, that did lead me into the only entertainment I had on maybe the fifth day? I was already losing count. I’d fill that little clear cup to the brim and set it gently on the floor careful not to spill any. Then I’d lay down on the icy floor so I could observe attentively, slowly I’d hold my eye above the cup and drop. The water would be pushed down and out of the cup with a satisfying splash. I’d fish it out and do it again and again until the cup was so empty the glass ball would hit the bottom seemingly bouncing off the floor in the water. 

 

I’d fill the cup and start all over again. Each drop created a slightly different wave, mini mushroom clouds spreading out of the confined environment I’d built for them. It was a beautiful thing I had control over, something to look at in the bleak room.

 

At least until the hallucinations started. As I sat one day playing my little game I dropped my eye but the water did not splash out, instead, it was blood. I had jumped up at the sight leaving me lightheaded and blind for just a second, and when I looked back, the floor was covered in blood.

 

My eye looked up at me from the crimson film, I grabbed it and scrubbed it in the sink the best I could. When I was certain it was clean, I turned to find the floor clean as well. I immediately practiced my breathing exercises and tried to keep myself from a full-blown panic attack. I tried to remind myself it wasn’t real but that only raised my anxiety more.

 

I had this feeling deep in me that this was not a one-time event and I had been right. Soon after that, the voices started, at first, I thought it was just the prisoners near me. I heard muffled whispers but no clear words. However, over a few days, it seemed as if someone was turning a volume dial up. More and more became clear, one day I heard chanting, on another I heard a child crying, a dog barking and growling seemingly right outside the door.

 

It was coming for me I knew it, they sent it to finish what they started, to punish me for my crimes. I heard it scratch at the metal door creating a horrible screech, then, as if on queue blood seeped from under the closed door. I had cowarded in the far corner in a ball once again. It was slowly pooling through the whole room, I was certain if it touched me something horrible would happen.

 

That’s when the screams started. They were right next to me, ringing through my ears. They were pained screams, scared screams, screams of death. I knew those screams. I held my hands to my ears by it did no good, they stayed just as loud, “Stop! Please stop!” I begged.

 

“And you once thought you had the strength to defeat me. Ha! You should have listened child,” The booming voice echoed. I closed my eyes tighter, too afraid to see what I was sure was there. The Endless One. It continued to laugh at me over the symphony of screams.

 

Then suddenly it stopped. The screams, the laughter all of it, I kept my eyes closed anyway. My breath shook from me as I built up the little courage I had left. Finally, I opened my eyes, I saw something in the corner and froze.

 

Towering over me in the small space was an image I knew far too well from my nightmares, my tears flowed freely as I watch him. It was a man in a metal mask with an ornate knife blood dripping tauntingly from the tip. But the mask and the handle of the knife was shaped like a dog, no it was more of a jackal. His eyes met mine as he took a step towards me. “Stay away!”

 

As he took another step he began to chant in a language I didn’t recognize, I watched in terror as a cloud of black smoke rose from the eyes in his mask. It swirled in an unnatural manner as if fighting to infect the clear air. His chanting finished and his red eyes glowed through the smoke covering his figure.

 

I screamed. “Don’t touch me! Stay away! Help!” I was trying to rock myself in the ball I had formed in the safety of my corner. The tears streamed down my face as I waited for the piercing blade with my eyes closed. 

 

After a few hours, I had convinced myself the blow wasn’t going to come, that the figure was purely another hallucination. However, it didn’t calm the anxiety, so I regressed to a last resort. That song Larry use to sing, I repeated the lyrics I knew over and over, as I cried.

 

I didn’t want to be here, I wanted to go home. A home that no longer existed full of people no longer living. I cried for them, what I wouldn’t do to see them again to have a chance to apologize. I thought of Maple, someone I often tried to keep from the forefront of my mind.

 

All of my crimes were horrific but nothing compared to what I did to her, I took her whole family from her. Her child. I killed her. I killed her baby. There was nothing I could ever do to make up for that sin. Poor Soda, I had seen the life leave her eyes, another image I tried to keep from my mind’s eye but it always seemed to soak in any way.

 

I had honestly loved her, she was like a niece to me, I had spent plenty of nights babysitting her while her parents enjoyed a well deserved night out and I always loved it. I still saw her face everywhere, they’d all be with me forever but Soda was truly always there a constant haunting presence in my mind.

 

Why couldn’t this all just end? I just wanted all of this to stop, the hallucinations, the guilt, the fear, even the fucking cold of this room. I wanted to jump into someone arms, to be comforted and soothed, to feel like a child again. I want to be sitting close to Larry playing video games under blankets, shielding us from the chilly air of the basement.

 

I needed to get out of this room, I looked at the thick door but knew banging on it would do no good. I looked around but there was nothing in the room except a small pile of trash, maybe I could find something to escape. I just couldn’t be here anymore and I didn’t care how I got out.

 

I shook the thought from my head. I refused to give up yet. I found myself wondering what day it was but I had absolutely no idea, it was terrifying to think about. What else leaves when you’re completely deprived of time? I shivered.

 

I was going to completely lose touch of reality soon and then what would I become? I sang the song out loud again, it was grounding and singing the words over and over left little room for thought.

 

“You’re missing a verse.”

 

I stopped mid-sentence, positive it was another hallucination. I swallowed and forced myself to look up. He was standing there, hands in his pockets casual as always, except it was not the Larry I tried to remember. I was looking at his standing corpse, bleached skin, purple veins, gray eyes. “L...Larry?”

 

A small smile tugged at his almost blue lips. “No offense, Sally, but orange is not your color.”

 

I huffed out a laugh but tears still flowed. “You...you don’t look so good either.”

 

We both just stared at each other, I wasn’t sure if he was even real. In fact, I was pretty convinced he wasn’t but still seeing even this mangled version of him was a slight comfort. “Are you-”

 

“How old-”

 

We both said and stopped at the same time, I awkwardly motioned for him to go. “How old are you?”

 

I looked up and met his glazed eyes I wished so badly I was looking at the beautiful amber I fell in love with. “I’m...I’m 24.”

 

“24…” His eyebrows were furrowed together a mix of confusion and worry, “How long?”

 

“You died two years ago,” I answered knowing what he was asking. “Do you not remember?”

 

“No, I do,” He pushed his hands further in his pockets as he often did when uncomfortable. “It's just...time doesn’t work like that for me.”

 

That thought scared me, how did time not work like that? Why would my hallucination even say something like that? “You can’t be real?”

 

“I guess I can’t say if I am or not…” He moved closer. “But I do know I’m happy to see you.”

 

As I looked at him everything I’d been feeling and missing these years hit me all at once, each day I thought about him, cried for him, dreamed of him, even stared at his photos for hours and yet I still never got the answer to the question running through my mind. “Why Larry? Why didn’t you just tell me you needed help? I would have done anything you needed?”

 

“Oh sally,” His figure kneeled in front of me and reached out to wipe the tears from my face, we seemed to have both forgotten the situation in front of us, as a cold hand grazed my face and moved back. “I’m so absolutely sorry, I really believed I had no other way out. I...I couldn’t tell you.”

 

“Yes-” I hiccuped out through the sobs. “Yes, you could have.”

 

Larry stared at me, I tried to imagine how his face should have looked, how his hair should have glowed as it always seemed to, how his lips should be flushed just the slightest of pinks, how there should have been a fire behind those eyes. But I saw none of that as his lifeless face was twisted in an expression of self-hate and fear. “I don’t have much time, please don’t cry Baby Blue.”

I cringed at the name as another set of sobs overtook me, the name was tainted and even the blood I shed couldn’t clean it from my memory.

 

“What’s wrong? Tell me?” His body leaned over looking like every muscle in his body was tell him to reach out to me but he didn’t. I sure it was to shield me from the discomfort of his cold being.

 

I didn’t want to worry him, “Nothing...just a guy bothering me. He’s...picked that name for me.”

 

His bluish lips pulled into a tight line, I could imagine his eyes would be burning if they weren’t so glazed over. “Bothering how?”

 

“I’ve dealt with it.”

 

“How?”

 

That daydream of Larry killing him came back to my mind once again, it was easy to visualize seeing the protective anger lingering behind his dead eyes. “I beat him nearly to death.”

 

He looked shocked. “You fought someone? In prison?”

 

I just nodded.

 

A sly smile peaked on his face, somehow even on his now distorted features it was still contagious. “Kick ass, Sally Face.”

 

I laughed for a second but again the tears were just nearly breaching the surface, it was so nice to be with him. I found myself not caring if he was real or not, I wanted to soak in his life I felt again like I was my real self again. I felt like I had just wandered into that room for the first time again, we had always clicked from that moment. I was amazed that even after death, that bond was still there.

 

The two of us sat there for a moment and strangely the room no longer felt so cold, but I knew that had to be a reason he was here, “How are you here?”

 

“Rose, man.”

 

“Well, why then?”

 

He sighed. “I’m not really sure. She said you may have information that could help her try to stop this.”

 

“I’m sorry I don’t.” I leaned my head against the concrete, “I’ve been digging I have but nothing so far is useful, all  have is an old ledger and some letter.” 

 

“Oh.”

 

“Tell her I’m sorry and I’ll keep looking,” I suddenly felt guilty about my lack of progress.

 

He waved me off, “Nah it’s cool. To be honest I only really cared about seeing you.” I smiled, “You know you look older.”

 

I laughed, finally feeling at ease with the whole strange conversation. “Well just wait until they kill me, when I finally come for your ass in the afterlife I’ll be nearing forty.”

 

Somehow the little color in his skin faded until he was bone white, it reminded me of how he’d look before his famously weak stomach turned on him.

 

“What?”

 

“Sal…” Larry’s voice was mournful.

 

“What aren’t you telling me?”

 

He looked away from me with a sigh, “I don’t think I’ll see you again…”

 

“What do you mean?” Suddenly I felt that I may be the one who’d get sick.

 

“Sal, you know what happens to people that die at the apartments better than anyone, wherever you’re going I’ll be trapped there.”

 

It seemed so stupid but I hadn’t thought of that until now. For some reason, I still held on to the idea that at the end of all of this, Larry would be waiting on the other side of that execution chamber. However, that was just naive to think, people at Addison apartments can’t move on, but I can.

 

Out of nowhere, I was frantic, there had to be a solution, “What if… what if I help Rose before than? What if I can finally stop it?”

 

He looked me straight in the eye, seemingly pleading not to think of this pain. “I don’t think it’ll help…”

 

“No,” It was all I could manage as a response. “So this is it, this is the last time I’ll ever see you?”

 

Larry looked away once again, his cold skin pulled unnaturally at his furrowed brow and I swear I had never seen him so hurt. “As far as I know… yes.”

 

I couldn’t bear to process that thought. I would spend eternity somewhere and Larry would spend it somewhere else and we won’t be together? How is that possible? How is that fair? Haven’t we all suffered enough? “Don’t leave me again.” The plea came from my lips from deep inside me.

 

I had been wrong about how hurt he was before, now his purple lip quivered and tears fell from his eye, he cleared his throat before responding. “I’m so sorry, Sal.”

 

“I can’t do it, Lar.” I tried to grab his arm but it only felt like cold air, “I need you, I need to know there’s a light at the end of this tunnel, please Larry don’t go.”

 

“I should have never left you, baby.” We both stared in desperation at the other, I found myself studying his face. What if I forgot it? I followed the line of his cheekbones up to the beauty mark under his eye to his always messy eyebrows down his long noise to end on his lips. I know it all so well. “I love you, Sally face. Always.”  _ See you on the other side.  _ I finished his note subconsciously, knowing it was a lie.

 

I wanted to scream and to beg but I understood what was happening, I pulled together my voice the best I could, “I… I love you too.”

 

A somber smile turned to a scream which turned into blood and then nothing. 

 

I stared at the empty room before doing the only thing I could think of. I let the weight of my head fall forward lazily, then after a pause for thought and with all the force I could muster I slammed it back colliding brutally with the cinder behind me.

 

Over and over.

 

It was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes. Thanks for being patient with my horrible update schedule! Hopefully, I'll have the never chapter up by next Monday! There's still so much of this story I'm excited about! Anyway, leave me some kudos and comments I love seeing your feedback!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone  
> Sorry for the late chapter! My life has been insane lately but I have forgotten about this story! Pleaase, let me know what you think next chapter will be longer!!  
> Let me know what you think  
> Cork

stopped for a moment as I felt a drop of blood slide down the back of my neck, I wondered how something I usually feared was somehow so comforting now. My head ached and my heart felt like it may fall from my chest but the warm vital fluid reminded me I was just a body. All I was was an animal, an organic machine, this pain in me was simply neurons, sodium and potassium surging through my cells. That’s all I am.

 

For some unknown reason I had felt that if I had served my time, did what I could to help end the cult I’d be rewarded for it someway. I kept telling myself I had to keep living, that I owed something to them and to myself, that redemption would be waiting for me if only I took my punishment faithfully. 

 

But I was wrong, there was no redemption. I would not be christened by the electricity that would to stop my beating heart. There would be no light at the end of the tunnel so why not embrace the darkness? After all this was only my body, why not destroy it myself instead of giving them the satisfaction?

 

I knew the answers to my unspoken questions as I resumed my fateful activity. The pain seemed to echo through my skull with each thrust back. Eventually I started to scream, not out of pain but out of spite, the echo in the cement seemed to taint me.  _ Just another outburst,  _ it teased,  _ you will give in to the pain soon enough. _

 

But I didn’t listen to that voice, I’d been listening to that teasing voice my whole goddamn life. I continued to bang my head as hard as I could over and over and over until I could no longer hear that antagonizing voice. Then suddenly it was like a dam broke, it seemed like I stood under a waterfall as my hair was soaked from the blood. When I touched the back of my head I winced and as I looked at my red hand it looked almost like one of Larry’s paints but staring at it made me feel dizzy. I found myself laughing as my vision started to fade.

 

In the unearthly fog that surrounded my mind, I felt the need to lay down. My back was against the concrete floor. I imagined my blood soaking into the tiny pores of the cement, how nice it be to instead have it slip through the slits of old pine. To lay on that floor once again, to know I’d spend eternity with the person I loved so dearly.

 

For a moment I convinced myself I was there surrounded again by loud music and the mundane scent of a bowl left unfinished. It had been abandoned once we both decided we had reached the perfect high. Now he laid beside me as we looked at the plastic glowing stars on the ceiling of ur sanctuary. We’d trace the constellations of our own making as we wrote fictional myths for the gods that resided amongst our wooden sky.

 

Yes I could see them now shining on the white cement ceiling, my eyes grew heavy and I could feel the warm liquid seep from my head to corrupt my shoulders and back. I decided not to fight it, I was always fighting forces I had no control over, but this time I’d let it take me defeated as I was.

 

“See you on the other side.” I mumbled out as I slowly let my eyes close.

 

***

 

I was barely aware as I heard voices rushing in. “Call the infirmary!” Someone yelled. I could feel the cold ground on back, a sticky liquid caked to my now stiff tee shirt. I wanted to move but I was too tired, I could barely keep my eyes opened. My vision was blurred but I could see two men in the room with me, moving quickly around me.

 

One leaned over me as he shined a light in my eye over and over, I couldn’t see his face beyond the bright light. “Sal? Sal can you hear me?”

 

I mumbled in response to my name being said before I felt the vomit coming up my throat. The man seemed to notice as well as he turned me to lay on my side carefully positioning my arm under my head. I didn’t even full feel in my body as I vomited, the only connection to my body I actually felt was the pain in my head.

 

I started to drift back to sweet unconsciousness as the violent reaction ended, I could feel the man’s hand hold something firmly to the back of my head. But before I could slip back into the dark he slapped me lightly in the face. “Sal! Hey Sally! Stay with me!”

 

I recognized the voice but couldn’t think of who it belonged to, if I tried to think harder on the subject my brain simply pounded against my skull until the pain of thinking was no longer worth the effort. “Just….Just let me...go.” I begged to the not stranger.

 

“I’m not doing that Fisher. You aren’t dying today.” I felt him slap me again, my eyes threatened to flutter shut again. “Goddamnit! Where’s EMS?”

 

“They’re coming,” A second voice answered uninterestedly.

 

The man whose face I knew but couldn’t recall looked down at me again. His eyes were blow and I could see the fear flashing behind them. “Think of your boy, Sal. What was his name? I have his picture for you.”

 

“Larry?”

 

“Yeah.” He pulled a picture from his pocket, even in this state I recognized it as the one that usually resided in my own pocket. How did he get it? “He wouldn’t want you to die would he? Larry wouldn’t want you to make the same mistake he did would he? Tell me about him.”

 

I could feel tears burn in my eyes making my head even more uncomfortable, “He was a painter and…and he was always so nice.”

 

“And what did he paint, Sal?” The man asked the question with such desperation and I didn’t understand why. Truly this man didn’t care about the paintings of dead man? 

The tears that rolled down my face brought pain with them and my eyes became even heavier, “It doesn't matter, I’ll never see him again.”

 

That was the last thing I remember before the blackness over took my weak mind once again.

 

***

 

The first thing I noticed as I came to was the horrible headache, agony coursed through every vein, radiating from my head. I opened my eye and another wave of pain went through me skull, I instinctively tried to cover my eyes with my arm only then realizing I was cuffed to the bed. Big fucking surprise. I collapsed back against the bed and closed my eyes, I failed. 

 

“Can’t wait for suicide watch,” I said sarcastically to myself.

 

Just as I was about to fall back asleep, I heard someone clear their throat. As I looked up I saw Cruz standing at the end of my bed, he wasn’t in his uniform and was instead in jeans and a sweatshirt that read ‘Nockfell County Corrections.’

 

“Why are you here?” I asked as I looked down the row of made beds in the infirmary. I really didn’t want to see anyone and I certainly didn’t want to get lectured.

 

He sighed as he moved closer, “ I thought I should return this to you.” Cruz held his hand out to give me something, I grabbed it and strained against the cuffs to see what it was. The picture. The one of Larry that I always kept with me. 

 

I suddenly remembered the man in the cell with me. “Where did you get this?”

 

“When they took your clothes after the fight it was still in your pocket, I grabbed it before they threw it out.”

 

“Oh,” Somehow I hadn’t noticed I left it in those bloody clothes, I really wish I had had it during my time in solarity. Looking down at the picture broke my heart all over again, “Um… Thanks for saving it.”

 

“Yeah…” He rolled back and forth on his heels awkwardly, as he started to move to leave.

 

I remembered then how he had called him ‘my boy’ he had to have known we were more than just best friends, “Cruz?”

 

“Yeah,” He turned back to me.

 

“Can… can you please not tell anyone. It’d be dangerous for me if everyone knew I was…” I rambled off. I could only imagine how many new Judahs would pop up, people ready to prey on me under the justification of my sexual orientation.

 

“I won’t say anything.” He reassured and I felt myself relax back into the bed. Cruz went to leave again but instead paused and turned back to me. “Why did you do it, Sal?”

 

I looked back to the side embarrassed by my actions. It was one thing to think about it and even to attempt it but trying to explain it to someone else was nearly impossible. “I… I just can’t take it anymore.”

 

He looked confused for moment maybe even angry. “Maybe you should have thought of that before…” He let his words trail off but I knew what he was going to say, before I murdered everyone I ever loved.

 

“You don’t think I know that now? The guilt crushes me everyday, I know I belong here but I also deserve to be dead. Why not save the state a few hundred thousand dollars?”

 

Cruz looked away from me, it was strange seeing him in street clothes. Stripped of his authority it was clear he was just a struggling young man, he could have been one of the inmates himself. He was skinnier than I thought but a layer of muscle was still visible over his fit form. “You know there are people here who don’t want you dead.”

 

It hit me then why he was in those clothes in the first place, his uniform was probably covered in my blood requiring him to change. I thought of how frantically that man leaning over me had called for help, how his firm hand had carefully applied pressure to the weeping wound. “Why do you care about me? I’m a criminal? A murderer?”

 

He looked at me for what felt like full minute, a look of conflict flashed before his eyes. 

 

“Feel better, Sally.” Cruz said dodging my question.

 

“Hey,” I wasn’t sure how to ask the next question but I knew I needed an answer. “How did you know? About me and Larry I mean?”

 

He hooved in the door once again, “I’ve lived in Nockfell my whole life, you two always stood out.” This time Cruz no longer hooved and instead left the room once and for all.

 

I laid back and tried my hardest to keep my mind blank but thoughts kept seeping in, every question from the stay and after kept rushing in. For some reason the thought of Cruz seeing Larry and I around town seemed like a horrible mix up of my two lives. It made me sick, like even when I believed I was happy all the horrors of my future was still looming over me.

 

I felt myself reliving everything that happened, the loneliness, the halluciations, Larry. Was that even real? It felt more real but maybe I just wanted it to be and those things he said was so horrible, but they seemed real. Suddenly something hit me, something Cruz had said in the cell, ‘Larry wouldn’t want you to make the same mistake.’ 

 

Offically, Larry was murdered. How did he know he really committed suicide?


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ope. She's back.   
> Sorry this fell way on the backburner of my life and I'm so sorry I fll iff the face of the earth. I working 2 jobs and planning my wedding and everything's insane but I need to find time towrite to keep my sanity. So here I am. I'm hoping to have this wrapped up but the end of the year! thank you all for sticking around! Leave me a comment or kudo!!!

The days seemed to drag even more than usual as I was stuck waiting out my suicide watch. It was only supposed to last 72 hours but since I stubbornly refused to talk, Alex had extended it by another 48 hours. And I had been stuck in this bed for nearly 4 days now, it was frustrating, to say the least. The only time I wasn’t restrained to the bed was when the nurse came to check my head wounds. Then with close supervision and an officer on a watch, I’d get the privilege to sit stand and even walk some, ensuring I did not have any further head injuries.  

 

However, even this small freedom was a welcome change to the crushing loneliness of the hole. At least now I could see people and there was even a small window overlooking the yard where the sun would splash on the linoleum floors in the early morning. It felt like paradise.

 

I had been informed by the young nurse, Daniel, that I had spent a full 19 days in solitary confinement. I remember the words washing over my being, how strange and foreign the syllables had felt in my ears. I had no clue how long I had been there yet somehow 19 days seemed both much too long and much too short all at once.

 

He had been the main nurse I dealt with since I’d been taken out of there. He had been the same one to treat my wounds before I went in. Daniel was perfectly professional but it was clear his hate for me was shimmering just under the surface. And with each passing shift, I was hoping more and more to see Della, she’d have to work soon, right? I was certain now that just her presence would help fill this empty void that seemed to send my thoughts bouncing dangerously around my skull.  Every moment of boredom was a risk of another forbidden thought, Larry or Todd or Ashley or the treehouse or Judah, each speeding thought threatening to break my paper-thin composure.

 

“Hello, Sal.” Alex stood at the front of my bed holding her notebook close to her chest, “Do you feel like talking today?”

 

I knew what she was really asking and I knew what my answer had to be. “Yeah. I think so.”

 

A sad smile reached her lips, at least she had the decency to seem guilty about holding me hostage here under the pretense of my mental wellbeing. It was bullshit but I knew she was trying to help. She sat in the small chair by the bed, “I’m glad to hear that. Now tell me honestly how you’ve been feeling since you’ve been here?”

 

“Empty, I guess,” I saw no reason to lie anymore. She was deep enough in it now, it seemed useless to try to protect her. I had damned her long ago. “It doesn’t seem real.”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“I feel in a fog, like I’m drifting.” I tried to explain but it didn’t do justice to the horrible hopelessness that possessed my thoughts now. It was a kind of mounting hopelessness that didn’t even bother acknowledgment. Instead, I tried to fill my mind with emptiness.

 

Alex scribbled something down in her notes. “Well, that could be from your injuries.”

 

“Yeah, I guess so,” I answered lamely knowing it wasn’t.

 

“Well how about your injuries? Do you feel up to talking about that?” She looked me in the eye patiently as she said the words.

 

“No...not really.”

 

“That’s fine, Sal,” She wrote something in the notebook making me think it, in fact, wasn’t fine. “What about Judah? Can you tell me more about that?”

 

“Will I be put back in the hole if I do?” I asked honestly, knowing protective custody was basically a death sentence. I guess I already had one of those. I guess I didn’t really care.

 

She took off her glasses, holding the frames delicately in her fingers, something she often did when she wanted to be seen. Ironically, I always wondered if she could even see anything without them or if they truly were just for reading. “Anything you tell me is confidential unless you are thinking of hurting yourself or others.”

 

The answer was very matter of fact, from the outside it was extremely clinical, but I could read between the lines. She was giving me the rules to the game, I would not be put in the hole or even reported unless I specifically said one of those two things. 

 

“Okay.” I played along, I did want to get some of this off my chest. I wanted someone to know what he’d done to me.

 

“Great,” She leaned back again knowing I understood. “So tell me about Judah.”

 

A silence fell over the empty infirmary as I told her everything, careful not to mention hurting myself or still wanting to hurt him. She listened carefully as I spoke, “He was tormenting me, using my mask as leverage to...use me. ‘Give him company,” as he put it. I was afraid and at the moment he touched me and… and I lost control. I… I just wanted him to stop”

 

“I understand.” Alex said, “And how did you feel? When you finally lashed out?”

 

I took a deep breath, “Well at the moment,” I made sure to tread lightly, “It felt good. I felt powerful but I barely remember anything from the first blow to being dragged out by the COs and… and once I was in the infirmary I just felt disgusted, maybe guilty.”

 

She looked me in the eye, “And why do you think you felt guilty?”

 

“I don’t know,” I tried to recall those few moments between the fight and the hole but now they seemed like a strange purgatory or a lost childhood memory and my aching head strained to remember anything clearly. That hour or so still seems impossible to pin down. “Honestly?”

 

She nodded prompting me to continue.  I paused, unsure if I should say the words dancing on my tongue. Was there even a reason for me to lie? I would never have anything to look forward to. Might as well make myself understood while I can. 

 

”I...I felt guilty because I liked it.” I knew I was pushing the limits of this game but I didn’t feel like lying. I had not been guilty that I hurt him and I still wasn’t, I had only been disgusted in myself for finding solace in that hurtful chaos. 

 

Both of us simply stared at each other, letting the confession hang in the stagnant air. For just a second her face reflected fear. She’d never looked at me like that. Suddenly she broke eye contact and stood, patting a protective hand on my leg she said, “Keep taking your pills and you should be released after our session tomorrow.”

 

She left abruptly leaving me again with my cancerous thoughts.

 

***

 

I awoke after another restless night to the sun glaring in my eyes. The bright rays making the pain in my head throb with each heartbeat. Every part of me seemed to ache and since it's been nearly a month without my prosectic the skin of my face was beginning to sag painfully, after all, it wasn’t purely aesthetic it did serve a purpose. For a brief second, I wondered how horrible it must look but truthfully I really didn’t care.

 

I heard some speaking at the nurse's station, hoping it was Alex, I focused my tired sight on the other side of the room. I could make out Daniel and the blaring orange of an inmate jumpsuit and next to him, once again in uniform, was Cruz. The inmate had blood on his fist and Danel quickly got to work bringing him over to a bed. As they passed, Cruz spared me a curious glance.

 

I had been hoping to see Cruz again but he never came. I wasn’t very surprised, it was always clear that he was here to do a job first and everything else second, but that didn’t keep my mind from dwelling on what he could know. After all, he said it himself, he lived his whole life in Nockfell. Certainly, he had to know something.

 

And he did. He knew about Larry and that was enough to occupy my mind as the vacant hours ticked by. Every possible scenario whipped through my head, it was torture. I wanted so badly to call out to get some answers to my questions but I knew I couldn’t. I wanted to yell across the room at him.

 

He had looked over at me again with that strained expression on his face, and just as everything he did I couldn’t quite pinpoint his intentions. He had flip-flopped so dramatically in the time I’d known him. He’d gone from an enemy to an ally to a friend to possibly a threat. I had no idea if I could trust him. I had thought he was being sincere but the new knowledge sent a chill through me. If he knew about Larry’s suicide he had to know about the Devourers, he may even be one of them. That was the only explanation. And yet something still told me he may be trusted.

 

I closed my eyes, trying to purge all thoughts from my mind. I wanted to keep that emptiness in my mind, to live in it, to die in it, to drown in a desert of my own void. I didn’t want to think about the Devourers or my crimes or my fear or Larry. All I wanted was to be completely and utterly empty. I have been a shell of myself for so long and yet I still wanted to be even ore hollow. I wanted to be done.

 

“Sal?” I jumped as a hand touched my arm. “I have your pills. How are you feeling?”

 

“Fine,” I answered I knew he was simply marking off a checklist. Daniel was not asking about my state of mind or my sanity. He did not care about my spiral thoughts.

 

He undid the restraints and I sat on the edge of the bed. I went through the movements on autopilot. I took my pills, I stood and walked. I answered the questions. No, I’m not dizzy. No, I’m not nauseous. Yes, I’m feeling better. We both understood that we had a role to play in this interaction.

 

I laid back on the bed, ready to spend an undetermined time in my vacant mind. I noticed through the fog that had settled over my vision that Daniel was looking at me. He never looked at me, at most he observed me, a subject that needed close study but now he was actually looking at me for the first time. 

 

We both stared for a moment. “Cruz asked how you’re doing.”

 

I didn’t respond. After all it wasn’t a question.

 

“I told him you were getting better and Alex was seeing you.” I just stared as he continued to speak, I had to wonder how pitifully I must look from him to be actually talking to me. “He said he hoped you’d feel better soon.”

 

He started to get up and leave, “When will Della be back?” The question left my mouth before I could even think of it.

 

Daniel watched me. “Oh. She doesn’t work here anymore. They offered her early retirement and she took it. Her last day was a week ago.” 

 

And just like that, he left. I tried not to let any of the interactions affect me, but I could feel my anxiety peaking. Something wasn’t right.


End file.
